For a long, long moment she looked into his eyes, while his thumbs stroked her temples, cheekbonesand into her hair. He watched her eyes grow slumberous, the lashes flutter down, and he dipped his head and, with great tenderness, kissed the dampness there. He brushed his lips across the velvety skin of her cheek and felt desire crawl along his nerve endings like flames licking oil. And when she let her head fall back into his hands, offering her throat to his questing mouth, he took it, but quivering with restraint, half-afraid of his own hunger.
Her breath escaped in a sigh, stirring his hair. He felt her move, shift slightly as she untied the belt on her robe, and he let his hands slide down, slipping under the robe, into the humid warmth beneath. She was so warmher skin still moist and fragrant from her shower. Her bones, womans bones, small and slight beneath silken skin and delicate muscle, nevertheless seemed to pulsate beneath his palms with strength and energy and life.
Desire flooded through him, all but overwhelmed him. Hed never known such hunger for a woman. Which is why it was such a shock to him when he heard his own voice saying, No.
She murmured something, and he felt her sway under his hands, just a little, as if shed been buffeted by an unexpected gust of wind. Feeling battered himself, he tugged her robe back together and stood for a moment with his eyes closed, breathing hard. Bad idea, he murmured, half to himself. On so many levels.
She didnt argue with him. Didnt protest, or beg, or ask why, although he could feel her body trembling and knew she must be as overcome with desire and disappointment as he was.
Im sorry, he said in a rasping voice, and she only nodded, standing very still, neither moving toward him nor away.
It hit him, then, what a rare woman she was, and how much he liked her. Respected her. Valued her. Wanted her. Voices clamoured in the back of his mind-maybe in front of it, too-strident, derisive, frustrated, confounded voices. You idiot, what more do you want? She suits you, in so many ways. Shes everything you could ever want in a woman, and then some. Shes perfect for you, and youre a fool. Youre going to regret this.
Probably. Almost certainly. Which only made it all the harder to tell himself this was the way it had to be.
Lindsey turned away from him, finally, one arm folded across her waist, hand clutching the collar of her robe. With the other she reached out and touched the photo of the wedding couple as she stared down at it.
So, she said in a flat, muffled voice, its true then? My father is not my father, and my mother is not who I thought she wasits all true?
Alan had to clear his throat before he could answer her. Im still connecting the dots. Ill tell you everything I know so far, but if you dont mind, Id like to do it on the way.
On the way? She lifted her head to frown at him. Where?
Thatswhy I came over, actually. Do you have any plans for the rest of the day? This evening? We probably wont get back until pretty late.
No-no, I dont have any plans Back from where?
Los Angeles. One of those dots that needs connecting. A private investigator He caught a breath. No way in hell he was telling her who he suspected this private investigator might be, not when she was so vulnerable. Not when he was so susceptible to her vulnerability. Hed managed to tell himself no once; he wasnt sure he trusted himself to do it twice. I think he might have some answers for us. He lives in Laurel Canyon, and according to his wife, he should be home and available to see us this evening. If we leave now, we can make it before dinnertime-its a weekend, so traffic shouldnt be a problem. Although, he reminded himself, with the L.A. freeways, you never knew.
Give me fifteen minutes, she said, and headed for the stairs.
Hed been right about the traffic, although hed forgotten to take into account the storm traveling down the coast from its birthplace in the Gulf of Alaska. Californias winter storms were late arriving this year; normally, by mid-November there would have been at least one good rain, but this year the jetstream had stayed stubbornly to the north, carrying the long-awaited rains off to the east before they had a chance to do more than sprinkle on Orange County and points south. It looked like this one might make it all the way to San Diego, good news for a city operating on permanent water conservation protocols.
Driving north on I-5 was like heading into night. With the short autumn day and the ominous darkening blue-gray sky ahead, most cars had their headlights on even though it was still mid-afternoon. As he drove, Alan told Lindsey what he and Carl had found out so far, being careful to lay out for her only the facts, keeping their suppositions to himself.
She sat quietly listening, looking through the contents of the file folder hed brought, and when hed finished, she tapped the printed copy of the article from the Richmond paper.
Andyou believe this woman, the one the fishermen found, is the same one that disappeared in Baltimore along with her husband? The one you believe is my mother?
You IDd her yourself, he thought, but only said cautiously, Its a possibility. The timings right.
She made an impatient gesture and dropped the article back into her lap. Its a terrible picture. I cant tell anything from this. Nobody can.
She fits the general description, Alan pointed out. And the head injury matches. He waited a beat, then added gently, According to Richmond PD, a man claiming to be the womans husband showed up three days later. Apparently, she had no memory of him whatsoever. He produced documents-a birth certificate and marriage license-as proof Jane Doe was his wife. According to those documents, the couples names were Roger and Sally Phillips. She was released into his custody, and that was the last anyone saw or heard of them.
Okay, so?
Documents are easily forged. Dont forget, that was before computers and national and international databanks. Long before DNA. Wanna know what I think? He gave her a quick glance and saw anger-or maybe tears-bright in her eyes. I think Roger and Sally Phillips ceased to exist the day they walked out of that hospital in Richmond, Virginia. And that they were reborn sometime thereafter in San Diego, California, as Richard and Susan Merrill. And, theres one other thing. He paused, fortifying himself, knowing how hard this next bit of news was going to be for her. When is your birthday?
He heard her soft intake of air. My birthday? May twelfth, 1970-why?
Keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead and his voice even, he told her. According to the hospital records, Jane Doe, aka Sally Phillips, was approximately four weeks pregnant when she was fished out of the Chesapeake Bay in early September, 1969. She might not have even known herself she was pregnant, at the time. But her baby would have been born, most likely, sometime around the first to the middle of May1970.
The silence inside the car seemed profound, even eclipsing the roar of freeway traffic beyond the windows.
Alan said, Lin- but got no further before she interrupted, shaking her head vehemently Dont. Justdontsay anything.
He waited patiently while she struggled with it, and wasnt surprised when she finally drew a reinforcing breath and spoke in a calm voice, tight with self-control. I dont care what you think. I will not believe my father-my dad-could have done anything to hurt, much less kill, my mother. Maybe he did claim her at the hospital, even gave a fake name-and you dont have any proof he did, by the way, do you? Alan shook his head. She settled back in her seat. Even if he did, that doesnt mean he was the one who shot her.
She says he is, Alan reminded her.
She dismissed that with a gesture. Shes confused. Why on earth would he try to kill her, then- her voice wobbled and she caught a breath in an unsuccessful attempt to control it -take her home andcare for her all those years? Why would someone do that? He loved her. He loved me. It doesnt make any sense.
The tears in her voice were hard to listen to. He felt them like a weight on his shoulders, and shifted irritably, trying to ease the burden. Dammit, Lindsey, I know it may not make sense to you. But the facts-
Facts? You dont have facts, you have theories!
Theories that fit the facts. Face it-your father, the man you know as Richard Merrill, has been lying to you all your life. Hes not who you believed him to be. When are you going to accept that, and deal with the truth?
She turned to him in a fury. And when are you going to understand? This is my father. The man who was always there for me. How would you feel if it were your father? Your dad who-
My father, Alan lashed back, was an abusive jerk who drove my mother to drink and eventually to suicide. He was never there for either one of us, and quite frankly, its been a long time since I felt anything for him whatsoever.
Silence once again enveloped the car. For several minutes the only sounds he was aware of were the thumping of his own heartbeat and the voice inside his head reading him the riot act for unloading on Lindsey like that. He wished he could say he didnt know where his outburst had come from, but of course he did know. Hearing his old mans voice after so many years had definitely stirred up some sleeping demons. But she sure didnt deserve the fallout.
He was searching for a way to apologize to her when she drew a quick, unsteady breath and said, Well. I guess that explains a lot.
Yeah, he supposed it did. He gave a humorless snort of laughter and didnt say anything, but he was thinking it was a damn good thing hed told himself no, earlier, when hed been on the brink of making a huge mistake. There was just no way in hell it was ever going to work between him and Lindsey Merrill, no matter how much he liked, respected, admired and wanted her.
And God help me, I do want her. Still.
They made good time. Traffic was open and fairly free-flowing all the way into downtown L.A. Since it was still early enough, they didnt have to contend with Music Center traffic. There was some congestion around the I-5/101 interchange, which Lindsey imagined was pretty standard, even early on a Saturday evening, but at least it wasnt raining. The Alaskan Express seemed to be holding off, for the moment.