14

Dev slam-dunked the ball, grabbed it after it bounced, and stuck it under his arm. “A little off our game today, aren’t we? That’s number three for me—but who’s counting?”

“I have another game on my mind.” Connor tipped his head and wiped his forehead on the sleeve of his T-shirt.

“No kidding.” Dev propped a fist on his hip. “Think you can focus on this one for ten more minutes? I’m digesting the download you gave me when we got here, but since I came all this way, I’d like to get in a decent workout before we dive into business.”

“Your place is only two miles from here.”

“And two miles back.” He tossed the ball over. “I’ll let you lead off. Maybe you can redeem yourself.”

Connor balanced the ball in his hands. Dev was right. They’d only been at this fifteen minutes, and his partner did some of his best thinking while he was in action, whether on the job or off.

So he’d give him action.

Crouching, he began to dribble the ball, keeping it low to the floor, left arm extended to ward off attack.

It didn’t take Dev long to make his move. He sprang forward and swiped at the ball—just as Connor expected. Holding the ball at his hip, he did a reverse pivot, then continued dribbling down the court with the opposite hand, neatly sinking a jump shot.

Dev stopped and folded his arms. “Getting serious, I see.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Yeah. Now that I know your head’s in the game, we’re gonna have some fun.”

Connor bounced the ball. “Your competitive streak is showing.”

“I like to win.”

“So do I.”

For the next fifteen minutes, Connor played hard as they pounded up and down the court. He faked a crossover when Dev came at him, disconcerting him long enough to go hard around his right side and score another jump shot. His jab step two minutes later threw Dev off balance, allowing him to drive to the hoop and do a layup.

Although Dev paced him step for step and did take the ball a couple of times, he only managed an air shot. Connor took possession of the ball on the rebound and landed a slam dunk.

Finally, breathing hard, Connor leaned over and rested his palms on his knees. “Had enough?”

Dev tossed him the ball, and Connor caught it with one hand as the other man wiped his face with the bottom of his T-shirt. “No. You’re one up. But I’m ready for a time-out. Your coaching gig here has improved your game.”

“I don’t know about that, but it has reminded me of the importance of strategy. And speaking of strategy . . .”

“Yeah, yeah. We can talk about the case now, but first I need some water.”

Ball under his arm, Connor led the way to the bleachers, pulled two large bottles out of his gym bag, and tossed one to Dev.

His partner caught it, twisted off the top, and chugged the whole thing.

Halfway through his own bottle, Connor recapped it and sat on the aluminum bench.

Dev joined him. “Here’s my take. Based on what you told me earlier about the police report, plus all the recent developments, I think the cops came to too many conclusions too fast. They went with the theory that since it looked like a rose and smelled like a rose, it must be a rose.”

“Like the burger Nikki brought me yesterday.”

“Good analogy. I hope you made up for it at dinner.”

“Yeah.” But his impromptu meal with Kate wasn’t on the agenda for today’s discussion. “In light of everything we’ve learned, I’m liking the head injury—and the assumption Kate’s husband broke his promise about wearing life jackets—less and less. It all strikes me as too convenient.”

Dev fished another bottle of water from the gym bag. “So what’s your theory?”

“I think the accidental death ruling is off base. With every piece of new information that turns up, this thing smells more like rotten garbage than a rose.”

“If it wasn’t an accident, there’s only one other explanation.” Dev twisted the cap off the bottle. “And to make that stick, you’d have to have a motive. Your client’s husband sounds like a Boy Scout. Why would anyone target him? And if someone did have him in their sights, why kill—or take—his son?”

Excellent questions.

Expelling a breath, Connor stood and began to pace. “Let’s think outside the box for a minute. The police assumed Kate’s husband overturned the boat when he fell, and that her son’s death was a tragic by-product. But suppose it wasn’t an accident. Suppose someone did have a reason to want her husband dead. Why not find a way to kill him without involving an innocent child?” Connor stopped. Frowned. “Unless . . .”

“Unless the child was the impetus for the whole thing.”

He swung toward his colleague. It was uncanny how their trains of thought often led them to the same destination. “Everything would fit.”

“But if your hypothetical killer was after the boy, there are a lot easier—and less risky—ways to kidnap a kid. And why your client’s son in particular?”

Shoving his fingers through his hair, Connor shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Dev took a swig of water. “Before you go too far down that road, it might be helpful to try and round up a picture of Sanders’s son. If you can find one, and it’s a close match to the kid in the mall, maybe it’s a look-alike situation with your client’s boy after all.”

“Too many other things still don’t fit, though.” Connor picked up his water again and twisted off the cap. “I agree we need to find out more about Sanders’s son. But let’s say we locate a photo—a serious challenge, since Sanders isn’t a social media kind of guy. I’ve already reviewed all the usual sites. And let’s say the photo’s obviously not a match. That would give our suspicions about the identity of the boy at the mall more credence, but it would also raise other questions.”

“Like where’s the real son?”

“Yeah. For starters.”

Dev leaned over to tighten a loose shoelace. “If I were you, I’d dig deeper on the doctor too. A loving wife’s opinion about her husband’s sterling qualities could be more than a little biased. He might have had enemies he never mentioned to her.”

“Or didn’t know about.”

“That too. But all that is a moot point if the boy at the mall ends up being Sanders’s son. Which would suggest that getting a photo of the boy is a top priority. If it doesn’t match the kid from the mall, you can follow up on your theory that someone took out the doctor. Dig deeper into his background. Do the same with Sanders. Both their kids too. If there’s a link between all of them, it’s there, waiting for us to find it. It might require some extra hours, but hey—that’s why they pay us the big bucks.” Grinning, Dev stood. “Can I offer you any other nuggets of wisdom today, my son?”

Connor weighed the half-empty bottle of water in his hand. Their conversation hadn’t been long, but it had helped him sort through the muddle of information and nail down some clear next steps. He’d have gotten there eventually on his own, but this was one of the beauties of having smart partners. They helped each other cut through the clutter and formulate the most efficient strategy.

“You’ve done more than enough for one day. I owe you.”

“You can pay off the debt right now.” Dev retrieved the ball from the bleachers. “Give me a chance to even up the score.”

“You got it.” Connor finished off his water, tossed the empty bottle in his gym bag, and rejoined Dev on the court. He’d pound the boards for another fifteen minutes.

But as soon as they finished, he was heading home to do some serious digging for a photo of David Sanders.

“Hey, Dad, can Kyle and me have some more tokens for the arcade?”

As Todd and the kid from next door trotted up to the table he’d claimed in Chuck E. Cheese’s eating area, Greg dug into the stash of brass tokens he’d purchased. “Make them last awhile this time. I don’t have an unlimited supply.”

“When is Diane coming?”

“Soon.” He doled out tokens to each kid. “After you use ten more, come back. We’ll eat as soon as she gets here.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

The kids zoomed off again.

Greg jiggled his foot and looked toward the entrance of the entertainment facility, trying to tune out the raucous noise from the animatronic show in the background and the excited, high-pitched voices of the hundreds of frenzied kids darting about. At least it sounded like hundreds. And the noise level wasn’t helping the dull pounding that had begun in his temples during Diane’s visit this morning and intensified as the hours passed.

Why did Kate Marshall have a picture of Todd?

How had she gotten it?

What did she plan to do with it?

After rehashing those questions for hours, he was no closer to answers now than he’d been two minutes after hearing the startling news. But he needed to find them—and Diane was his only hope. She already had a connection with the Marshall woman. An in. The challenge was to convince her to help him.

And it was a formidable one, in light of her miffed reaction to his recent efforts to temporarily cool things down between them.

As he lifted his Coke and scanned the area again, he caught sight of her over the heads of a group of little girls. Rising, he waved until he caught her attention.

He watched as she wove through the clusters of chattering children and swiveled sideways, out of the path of a group of boys making a beeline for the arcade area. She looked trim and appealing in her jeans and silky blouse, every hair in place, her makeup perfect. Her ex-husband ought to be behind bars for the way he’d treated her. How could a man hurt a woman he said he loved? At least she’d dumped the bum. And despite her bad experience with men, she’d opened the door to a relationship with him.

Though judging by her taut posture, that door might be closing fast—and at the worst possible time.

He pulled out a chair as she approached. “Sorry about the setting, but it’s better than go-karts.”

“I’m sure the kids love it.” Setting her purse on the table, she slid into her seat and plaited her fingers, her shoulders stiff.

Not good.

“You look very nice. New blouse?”

Her brow wrinkled. “Yes.”

No smile. No thank you. Why would she take offense at a compliment?

Clueless, he changed the subject. “Thanks for coming. Todd and his friend are in the arcade, but he just stopped by to see if you were here yet. He was really excited about you joining us. In case you haven’t noticed, he’s one of your biggest fans.”

Her forehead smoothed out. “The feeling’s mutual. He’s a great kid.”

“Yeah, he is.”

Silence fell between them, and suddenly he was grateful for the din. It covered the awkward gap in conversation.

Odd. In the past, they’d had no problem chatting. Their easy give-and-take was one of the things he liked most about being with Diane. If there was an occasional lull in their conversations, she always filled it with a humorous story about her day or a question about his.

At the moment, however, she was making zero effort to communicate.

Another negative sign.

He gripped the cup of soda, his stomach churning. Might as well get to the subject that was front and center in his mind. The noise in the place provided excellent cover for a confidential discussion, and the kids wouldn’t be back for a few more minutes unless they ignored his warning and burned through their tokens.

Resting his forearms on the table, he leaned closer to her. “I’ve been thinking all day about that picture you saw in your job counselor’s office.”

She redirected her attention from a passing birthday party group to him. “Have you come up with any explanation?”

“No, but I’m more curious than ever. Where was it exactly?”

“In a file folder. She went out to get us some tea, and I decided to stretch my legs. As I passed her desk, my jacket caught the end of the folder and it flew off. The picture slid out as it fell.”

He bit back a word he knew she wouldn’t like. If the picture hadn’t been visible and Kate didn’t know Diane had seen it, how could she introduce it into conversation? Dig for information?

Greg sighed and took a long swallow of his drink. That probably hadn’t been a realistic strategy, anyway. If the photo was of Todd, as he suspected, and there was some sort of investigation going on, Kate wouldn’t talk about it with a client.

He set his drink back on the table.

“You’re worried about this, aren’t you?” Diane’s gaze was fixed on his fingers, and he looked down at them. They were trembling.

Wrapping them around his drink, he nodded. No sense denying the obvious. “Yeah. I wish there was some way to find out the story behind it. Thinking about a stranger having a picture of my son freaks me out.”

“I can understand that.” She tapped a polished nail against the surface of the table. “You know . . . this might be a crazy idea, but since Todd is adopted, do you think there’s any chance she could be his birth mother?”

His heart stuttered, and the breath jammed in his windpipe. “Why would you say that?”

“I don’t know what your adoption arrangements were or who you went through, but I read once that some agencies require adoptive parents to send pictures and stuff so the birth mother can follow her child’s progress. All without names, of course.”

He pulled out the answer he always gave when questions about the adoption came up. “I’ve heard that too, and I never liked it. We used a lawyer who hooked people up with women who wanted to do private adoptions. Part of our agreement was that there would never be any contact and both parties would remain anonymous. I thought that would be less confusing for the child.”

She shrugged. “So much for that theory.”

“I appreciate you helping me think through this, though.” Taking a chance, he reached over and covered her hand with his. She gave him a surprised look—but didn’t pull away. “More than that, I appreciate having you in my life. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time. I’m also grateful for your patience while I work through this recent stuff with Todd.”

Her gaze flicked down to their joined hands, and she drew an unsteady breath. “I don’t like being left in the dark, Greg. Or being manipulated. That’s how I’ve felt for the past couple of weeks with you.”

“I’m sorry for that. The last thing in the world I want to do is hurt you or make you feel used. You’ve had enough of that kind of treatment to last the rest of your life.”

Even before he finished saying the words, guilt rippled through him. He hadn’t used her yet, but he was getting ready to—and there was no way around it. She was the only one who could get him the answers he needed.

On the other hand, he wasn’t using her in a bad sense. He did care about her, and he’d tell her his story if he could. Since that wasn’t possible, he’d have to solve this problem fast so he could get on with his life—a life he hoped would include Diane as part of a brand-new family unit. She wouldn’t mind being used if she knew that was his goal, that he wanted them to be together.

Would she?

She searched his eyes, and he hoped she saw the caring, not the conflict.

Her demeanor softened, and he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“If I have the opportunity to ask a few discreet questions at my next appointment with Kate, do you want me to see what I can find out? I won’t mention you or Todd.”

The very request he’d been planning to make.

“If you could, that would be great. And yeah, until we see what she has to say, I think it would be smart if you didn’t say anything about Todd or me. When are you going back?”

“I left without setting up an appointment, but I don’t think I’ll have a problem getting in by Tuesday or Wednesday. From what I’ve heard, Kate finds time for clients who need to see her, even if she has to stay late.”

“Hey, Diane! You came!” Todd skidded to a stop beside the table, Kyle beside him.

“I never miss a birthday party if I can help it.”

“Can we eat now, Dad? We’re getting hungry.”

“Sure. How does pizza sound?”

“Awesome!”

“Sorry I can’t offer you more gourmet fare.” He smiled his apology at Diane.

Her return smile seemed genuine. “Pizza’s fine.”

Greg placed the order, and there was no more problem with awkward silences during the meal. The two boys chattered nonstop, and Diane joined in.

As they finished off the pizza and he dispensed the last of the tokens, she picked up her purse.

A wave of disappointment crashed over him. In her presence, the loneliness that plagued him always retreated. Once she left, it would come roaring back, despite the boisterous crowd. “Are you leaving?”

“Yes. I have a few errands to do.” She rose.

He had no choice but to stand as well. “I’ll walk you out. Boys, I’ll be back in five minutes. Meet me here after you’ve used up all those tokens.”

“Okay.” Todd dashed off, his friend in tow.

He followed her toward the entrance, wishing he could convince her to stay a few minutes longer. Not that he blamed her for making a fast exit from noise city, but . . .

“Diane! Nice to see you.”

A tall, gray-haired man with kindly eyes held out his hand, and Diane stopped to take it.

“Reverend Howard—what a surprise.”

“I’m playing grandpa today.” He gestured to the two young girls holding hands beside him. “These are Carol’s daughter’s children. They’re in town for a few days.” He leaned around Diane and offered his hand. “Bill Howard.”

Greg returned the man’s firm clasp and introduced himself.

“Sorry for my lack of manners.” A faint pink stain crept over Diane’s cheeks. “I was just taken aback to see you here. Greg is . . . a friend of mine.”

At her slight hesitation, the minister’s expression grew speculative, and Greg shifted under his scrutiny. Although the man’s smile never wavered, his intent eyes suggested he could see things Greg had taken great pains to hide. His minister in Cleveland had been like that too. Another reason he’d stopped going to church.

“Well, in that case, let me issue a personal invitation to join us some Sunday for services. You’d be very welcome—and we serve great donuts.”

“Thanks. I’ll think about it.”

The little girls tugged on the man’s pants leg, and he gave Diane a sheepish shrug. “It appears my charges are growing impatient. Will I see you at church tomorrow?”

“Of course.”

“Excellent. I’ll be preaching on Ephesians 4:31–32. A great passage that offers excellent advice.” The man’s comment encompassed him, and Greg looked down and fiddled with the phone on his belt.

“I’ll look forward to it. Your sermons are always wonderful.”

“Thank you, my dear. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

As the little girls pulled him farther into the cavernous facility, Diane continued in silence toward the exit. Greg followed.

At the front door, she paused. “I’m glad you got to meet my pastor. I think you’d enjoy his services—and as I’ve learned over the past few months, they mean even more when life is challenging. I know Todd would like the Sunday school, and attending might give you some comfort.”

He doubted it. God wouldn’t want the likes of him darkening the door of his house.

“Maybe someday, Diane.” At the flicker of disappointment in her eyes, he threw in a caveat. “He seems like a nice man, though.”

“Very.” She glanced back in the direction he’d disappeared. “He’s had a lot of his own problems to overcome, but things worked out. Getting to play grandfather is a blessing he never thought he’d enjoy.”

“Why is that?”

“His first wife ran off many years ago and took their toddler daughter. Fell off the face of the earth, apparently. Reverend Howard searched everywhere—hired a PI too, from what I’ve been able to gather—but no one ever found a trace of either of them.” Diane shook her head. “Can you imagine how devastated he must have been to lose not only his wife but the daughter he loved? Even if she wanted out of the marriage, why would a woman deprive a man of his child?”

Greg shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and fisted them. “Hard to say. So who are the kids with him today?”

“He remarried a few years ago, to a widow with two older children who’ve since supplied him with grandkids to love.” She pulled out her keys. “I have to run. No need to walk me to my car. I found a space near the door.” She gestured toward the lot, and he spotted her car a few spaces down the row directly in front. “I’ll call you after my next appointment with Kate and let you know if I was able to find out anything helpful.”

She started to turn away, and he touched her arm. “Thanks for doing this.”

For a long moment, she searched his face. “No problem. Enjoy the rest of Todd’s birthday.”

He pushed the door open for her, and as she slipped out, the heat smacked him in the face. Taking a quick step back, he let the door shut. Within seconds, cool air enveloped him.

If only he could as easily escape the heat bearing down on him thanks to that photo in Kate Marshall’s possession.

But he’d find a way to solve the problem. To remove any impediments to his security. He’d taken an enormous risk to build a new life with Todd, and nothing was going to jeopardize it.

Nothing.

He would protect what was his—no matter what the cost.

Because losing another son was not an option.