Chapter Five

 

Melody arrived at the nursing home feeling slightly uneasy. Sabrina's eyes reminded her of someone...Greg Riley, the sixteen-year-old boy who used to live beside them when her parents had made an attempt to stay in one location when she was fourteen.

They had bought a country house in Runaway Bay, up in the hills of St. Ann, overlooking the sea. The house even had a name, Orchard Cottage.

Her adventurous parents had been forced to try their hand at child-rearing; that had lasted exactly one year and it had been a disaster. Both of them had been bored out of their wits; gentrified country living was not idyllic, as her globe-trotting parents soon found out.

Her mother almost had an affair with the butler, an English guy named Perkins, who she had insisted that they get because they were going to have loads of visitors. Perkins' job was to announce her visitors; she got a real kick out of that.

Her father was rarely sober; he hung out with the men at the bar at the bottom of the hill in his eagerness to fit in.

Melody had fared the worst of them all, left on her own, without any guidance to speak of, except from the housekeeper, Babsy, who would lecture her in the most strident tones, especially if she slept on the beach or over at Greg Riley's.

Greg Riley had been the recipient of lax parental guidance, too, and they both had mutual unrest. In the hills of St. Ann they were the only ones who were close to each other age-wise. They were forced to become friends, and they had fallen into a camaraderie that had ended abruptly.

"Ms. Moore." Janice, the nursing home director, pushed her head through the window of the car. "I heard you drive up…you were just sitting there. I have a quick favor to ask."

Melody blinked her eyes, bringing Janice's bespectacled face into focus. "Yes, Janice."

"Could you be the MC tonight? Mr. Witherspoon pulled out, he had a family emergency and went off to the hospital as soon as he got here."

Melody sighed. "It's a good thing I got here on time, then."

Her voice lacked the brightness it normally did and Janice looked at her worriedly.

Melody breathed a sigh of relief when she didn't ask her any more questions. She was just happy that she could be distracted from the dangerous turn her thoughts had taken. It was ridiculous, her associating Sabrina's eyes with Greg's. She had stopped trying to find Greg's eyes on every one she saw.

 

*****

 

"Morning, my beautiful family," Logan said as he entered the airy kitchen area. It was early in the morning and today was going to be a hectic court day for him.

"Morning Daddy," Zack said brightly. He was eating what looked like pie. Even his nose had some on the tip.

Lauren grumbled, "Daddy, Mommy is trying to kill me."

Logan chuckled. He always got a special kick out of talking to his children. The scene in the kitchen was domestic bliss to him. He had grown up with something close to this and he was happy that he and Melody could recreate it for their children.

"I hope you have some basis for your argument, young lady." He went to the kettle and poured some water over a tea bag. "Are you saying that Melody Moore is planning to kill you or has she attempted to carry out an act of killing?"

"She is attempting to,” Lauren said, a gloomy slant to her shoulders as she stared at her porridge. "I hate porridge."

"Oh," Logan grinned. "And is this offensive porridge available to all the family?"

“Yes," Lauren said, putting some of the porridge in her spoon and watching it as it fell back in the dish. The more she did it, the more watery it became.

Logan looked at Zack's bowl, which was wiped clean.

"Your brother already had it and he is still alive."

"And it was yum," Zack imparted, "but not yummier than the pie. Mommy can I get more?"

Melody shook her head. "Nope, go brush your teeth."

"But this porridge will kill me,” Lauren said with simple logic. "Mine has lumps in there. Maybe it's hidden poison."

Melody laughed. "This child has a formidable imagination."

"Ah, I should avoid the lumps when I eat mine then." Logan chuckled and carried the tea over to the table and kissed Melody.

"I heard you came by yesterday. I am sorry I missed you."

"I did come by," Melody said she was in tight, worn jeans and a long sleeved jumper which was buttoned up to her throat. Her thick curly hair was pulled back in a high ponytail of corkscrew curls. She was dressed for the morning run to drop the kids off at school. She looked like a college senior and not a soccer mom.

Logan's gaze flickered over her; she still managed to make him hot even in her simple attire. If this were a time before they had the kids, or before he was a managing partner and wasn’t so busy, he would have been all over her now.

"And I met the absolutely stunning Sabrina."

Logan inclined his head. "She is pretty, isn't she?"

"And then some,” Melody said. "If I were insecure and didn't trust you implicitly, I would be begging you to fire her now."

That was a threat. Logan recognized the statement for what it was.

"She is very good at her job." He kept his tone even. He had pushed that unfortunate fissure of sexual attraction to the back of his mind after that scene at his office. It wouldn't happen again. It was the one thing he had in droves, self-control, and he wouldn't allow himself to be tempted by Sabrina.

Melody grunted. "That girl is enough to make any wife insecure."

"But not you." Logan got up and kissed Melody on her pink bare lips. "You have no need to be insecure, Melodious."

Melody whispered, "Why is it that when you call me Melodious I melt and when my mother does it I feel like growling?"

Logan chuckled and looked over at Lauren, who was still playing in her porridge. “Lauren, you are going to be so hungry later in class. Go brush your teeth."

Lauren ran to the bathroom and Logan's phone went off at the same time. It was Sabrina. He answered it, aware that Melody was right beside him, watching his expression. The truth was, he hadn't even realized how pretty Sabrina was until yesterday, when he felt that weird connection to her. He wasn't going to dwell on it, though; it had been a minor glitch in his otherwise busy life. Sabrina was just an efficient secretary. That was all there was to it.

"Good morning, Sabrina."

Sabrina sounded as bright and chipper as she always did.

"Mr. Moore, you have a scheduled dinner at the House Boat with Mr. Masters tonight, at six. Just a reminder."

"Thanks Sabrina," he said, hanging up. He was getting tired of Thaddeus and his dictates about this case. If he wanted to run the thing, why didn't he take it over? He was suggesting various angles that were not even logical to get his secret daughter off the hook.

"Everything okay?" Melody asked him.

"No," Logan growled. "Thaddeus is driving me mad."

Melody kissed him on the lips softly. "You can handle this."

“Thanks, honey." Logan drew her closer to him. "I won't be home again until late tonight. I have a dinner with him at the House Boat."

Melody rolled her eyes. "I can't wait for this case to be over."

"Me too," Logan said hopefully.

 

*****

 

Logan made it to the restaurant with just a minute to spare. For close to two hours he had been embroiled in a heated discussion with the assistant director of prosecution in her office.

He rubbed the back of his neck. He wasn't in the mood for Thaddeus' gruff questions and overbearing dictation about what his next move should be.

He strode to the hostess stand and was greeted pleasantly. "Your table is ready, Mr. Moore." She walked him over to the deck outside; it was super intimate, with only two tables. His eyes zeroed in on Sabrina, who was sitting at one of the tables with a smile on her face.

"Surprise!" she said when he sat down and looked at her, confused.

"Mr. Masters asked me to call you to cancel the meeting tonight," she said, smiling. "I couldn't get you on the phone. So I came by to give you the message."

"You couldn't?" Logan felt in his pocket for his phone. He hadn't turned it on since court.

"Oh yes." He acknowledged his mistake wearily. "I was in a meeting with the ADP. She is thinking of adding several new charges to the ones they already have on the books."

"Oh," Sabrina said, leaning forward. "Let me guess, prostitution is one of them?"

"Good guess." Logan realized two things simultaneously: she was in a halter neck yellow blouse, which showed off her slim arms, and she had her hair down around her face in a thick black cloud. Had he noticed before that her skin was such a dusky shade, almost like golden honey?

"This place is nice," Sabrina said. "Is the food any good?"

Warning bells went off in Logan's head. Get up and go now! His belly contrarily reminded him that he was hungry and that he hadn't had anything to eat since this morning when he had the porridge. What would be the harm in staying for dinner and charging it to the company's tab?

"It's surprisingly good," he said to Sabrina, "and they serve healthy portions for a fancy restaurant."

Sabrina giggled; her golden eyes sparkled at him. They seemed larger and more opaque around the candlelight.

Like one of his favorite marbles when he was a kid. If he had a marble of that clear golden color, he would not play with it and bang it up, he would cherish it in his rare collection.

Coincidentally, the song For the First Time, by Kenny Loggins started playing over the discreet speaker: "...are those your eyes...is that your smile...I've been looking at you forever but I never saw you before..."

Logan cleared his throat, trying not to listen to the music. He was relieved when the waiter came to take their orders and after suggesting items to Sabrina, he sipped the water provided because suddenly his throat was parched. Melody was right, she was pretty and she had a certain charm. Maybe he was not as immune to her as he thought.

"This is a treat," Sabrina said, "being able to have dinner with you. I mean, I thought this would be far into my future—business dinner with a lawyer."

Her answer reminded him how young she was and Logan's brain, which had wandered downward into whimsy snapped back into focus.

"This is not a business dinner," he observed. "This is us taking advantage of Thaddeus Masters' appalling cancellation, after he set up this meeting."

Sabrina held up her water glass. "To dinner cancellations and expensive, generous food."

Logan touched his glass to hers. "Here, here."

"I don't understand Mr. Masters." Sabrina pushed her hair behind her ears and gazed at Logan earnestly. "I mean, I know his daughter was a prostitute and she murdered a man."

"Allegedly murdered a man and allegedly his daughter,” Logan said, a warning note in his voice.

"Allegedly," Sabrina corrected herself and then shrugged ruefully. "I guess I don't have the lawyer jargon down yet. I just hate the fact that Millicent had to resort to prostitution to make a living when her own father is a well-known lawyer who is stinking rich and now, when it is too late, he wants to help her. I bet he is only doing this because someone threatened to expose him.

"She is my age," Sabrina continued passionately. "She probably doesn't even know that he is her father. This situation is worse than finding out that you were adopted when you are sixteen."

Logan raised his eyebrows. For the first time he was seeing another side of Sabrina. He had no idea from her placid exterior that she had at the office that she would be this worked up over the case. She usually did what she was told, with no discernible expression. He was even more intrigued by the fact that she was adopted. She hadn't hinted at that before.

"Was it traumatic finding out you were adopted?" he asked gently. He had handled so many adoption cases with small children and babies. He had never really had a conversation with an adult who was adopted, at least not about their adoption.

"Yes," Sabrina replied bitterly, "my parents were really, really odd. Both of them had some phobias, I tell you."

"Abusive?" Logan asked with a frown.

"No, not abusive. They were just old and out of touch. My dad was diagnosed with pathological hoarding and my Mom had dementia." Sabrina groaned. "The older I got, the worse their problems got.

"When I found out I was adopted I was relieved beyond measure that they were not really my parents and then I wondered who my birth parents were and why on earth they would hand me off to the Walkers, a couple that clearly had problems. I mean, I practically raised myself.

"But then I found out my birth mother was and I was flummoxed. She could have afforded to keep me, but she didn't want the scandal, I guess."

"So where are your adopted parents now?" Logan asked, fascinated at the passionate words spewing from Sabrina's mouth; she was almost bristling with anger.

"My adopted parents died in a car accident when I was fifteen. I found out that I was adopted from some personal papers in my mother's stuff a little while after that. By accident too, because let me tell you, my mother wrote everything down and my father threw nothing away."

"So who became your guardians when they died?" Logan asked.

Sabrina shrugged. "I was my own guardian. I didn't need anyone and I definitely had no intention of joining the hellhole that is the foster care system. I had the house; I had my parents’ combined investments, which were substantial.

"I sold the house in Kingston and moved here last year. I have been navigating this world alone for years now. Maybe that is why I chose law. I had to figure out certain legalese from I was pretty young and I found it fascinating. You know what's pathetic? When I graduated high school I pretended that I had a family in the audience."

She shook her head ruefully. "Maybe that is why Millicent's case resonates with me so much."

When she finished speaking, the waiter arrived with the food, and while he was eating Logan felt a sort of sympathy for her. She was alone in the world. He had no idea what that felt like.

"So didn't your parents have family members who you were close to?" he asked after a while.

Sabrina smiled at him. "You sound like you have on your compassionate lawyer’s voice. But no, my parents were kind of ostracized by their families years before I came on the scene; it was over some ancient feud or the other. Maybe that's why they adopted me. They wanted someone to leave their stuff to in case they died. I think they should have gotten a cat."

Logan looked at her sympathetically. "I just can't imagine how that feels. I have Melody and the twins, my parents and my sister Lola and a bunch of friends who are more family than friends."

"Your children are so lucky to have you as their dad," Sabrina continued solemnly, "and your wife is truly blessed to have you as a husband. I want a husband just like you."

Logan smiled. "I hope you get your heart’s desire, Sabrina. It can't be easy being alone in this world."

"I am not totally alone, I have a friend or two back in Kingston," Sabrina said, "and I am pretty sure I have family somewhere on this planet too. No man is an island, right?"

"Right," Logan said. He resisted the urge to pat her hand. She had a lonely glint in her eye and she looked so vulnerable and alone.

"Why don't you contact your biological family?"

"I can't," Sabrina said forlornly. "I don't want to be rejected and besides, there was a clause in the adoption contract that says that they shouldn't be contacted, ever.

"I should not have known any of this, but my Mom wrote everything down, because of her worsening dementia. She hid it really well, you know. When she realized she was losing her memory, she started writing down whole conversations.

"The terms of the adoption and everything were faithfully written in a personal diary entry. I almost threw that diary out with the rest of my parents’ junk. I like to think of it as divine intervention that I found that particular paper. I was heading for the dumpster with a whole box of papers when it fell out of the pile."

"Wow," Logan sympathized. "You know, a closed adoption is not unusual. I have dealt with a few. There are numerous reasons for it. Maybe you dodged a bullet. Maybe your birth family are monsters or your birth mother is emotionally disturbed or takes drugs."

"I don't think so." Sabrina fidgeted, putting down her fork and pushing away her plate. "I can't help that I sometimes think irrationally. Wish my life were different. Fantasize that my birth mother could have kept me. I know who she is."

Logan raised an eyebrow. "You sure?"

"Yes. I am sure," Sabrina whispered. "What would you do?"

Logan sipped some water and considered the question. "That's a tough one. I would assume that she doesn't want to be found for a reason. Maybe she has moved on, has another family or has some issue that you don't want to get embroiled in."

He cleared his throat. "You know, you are not doing too badly for somebody who raised her self from fifteen. To contact your biological parent now may not be for the best."

Sabrina contemplated what Logan said and nodded. "Maybe you are right. I should focus on my life and what is best for me. And what is best for me right now is to be with the man I love."

Logan grinned. "Is that so?"

"Yes." Sabrina flushed and then looked down at the table. "I love him so much, sometimes I ache with it."

"Whoa," Logan laughed. "That's nice, Sabrina. I wish you all the best with your guy."

"He's not my guy yet." Sabrina picked up her fork again. "But he will be."

"You sound determined." Logan chuckled. "Lucky guy. I hope he is a good person."

"He is." Sabrina smiled.

After dinner when they were leaving, Logan walked her to her car. "Goodnight Sabrina."

Sabrina disarmed her car alarm and then swung around toward him fully and impulsively hugged him.

"Goodnight Logan." She stepped away. "I mean Mr. Moore. Thanks for listening to me."

"Just Logan is fine,” Logan said, a bemused expression on his face. "See you tomorrow."