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“Did that answer seem reasonable to you?”
“Yes. I just walked in myself.”
He regarded her quietly before asking his next question. “Why do you want me to find Todd for you?”
“Like I said, I want to know more about him.”
“Like what?”
“Anything and everything you can learn.”
“And why is that?”
His questions were focused, like he was following a road map with a definite destination in mind. She had no idea what that destination was and that made her even more nervous.
“I just want to know about him,” she said. “Isn’t it natural to want to know about someone you’ve been intimate with?”
“Ms. Carter, I’m going to need a more direct answer.”
She forced herself to meet his eyes. A woman had to make her presence felt in order to be taken seriously. She had learned that maintaining eye contact was an important defense against being summarily dismissed.
“I don’t understand what you want me to say.”
“I want you to say the truth—the whole truth. What exactly do you intend to do with the information that I give to you about Todd?”
“Try to use it to understand what kind of man he is.”
“You’ll forgive me for saying so, but isn’t that something a woman normally does before she sleeps with a man?”
She’d been feeling anything but chipper since the beginning of this conversation. But that last comment made her stomach churn.
“No, Mr. Knight, I won’t forgive you for saying that. I’m not asking for your approval of my actions. I’m asking for your help in finding out about Todd.”
Where there had been only an open expression on David’s face before, suddenly there was a sharp, focused intensity. “And if you like what I find out about Todd, are you going to tell him you’re pregnant with his child?”
She swallowed hard. “That’s a pretty wild assumption.”
“On the contrary,” David said calmly as he leaned back. “It’s the only logical conclusion. You slept with a stranger whose last name you never asked. You haven’t made an attempt to locate him in the intervening six weeks. Now, all of a sudden, you’re willing to hire a private investigator to find out about him. If you’d discovered he’d given you a sexually transmitted disease, you’d want him found so he could be notified. But you only want to find out about him. You’re pregnant. And you believe Todd is the father.”
She sucked in a shaky breath, fighting desperately to quell a rising sense of panic and burgeoning nausea. This private investigator was good, all right—too damn good.
“You’d best understand the ground rules,” he said. “I have a license to consider and, just as importantly, a conscience to answer to. I cannot take on a case without complete honesty from a client.”
“I haven’t lied to you.”
“Omissions are substantially the same thing. You weren’t planning to tell me about the pregnancy. Do you plan to tell Todd?”
“I don’t know.”
“So, it will depend on what I find out about him?”
“I have a lot of decisions to make. Before I make any about him, I have to have more information.”
“When did you discover you were pregnant?”
“Last Friday.”
“You had no suspicion before that?”
“I thought I had the flu.”
“No missed period?”
“I’ve always been irregular.”
“Why do you think Todd is the father?”
“He’s the only one who could be.”
“Ms. Carter, if there are any other pertinent facts regarding this case that you’re keeping from me, I need to know them now. Am I being clear?”
“Yes.”
“Is there anything you want to tell me?”
“I have nothing to add.”
“Who else could be the father?”
“No one.”
“Who else knows you’re pregnant?”
“Just the doctor.”
“You’ve told no one else?”
“That’s correct.”
“Is there anyone else who has a right to know?”
“A right to know?” she repeated, wondering at the oddness of that question. “With the possible exception of Todd—and I haven’t decided one way or another about him—no one has a right to know.”
David’s silent scrutiny did nothing but add to the queasiness in her stomach.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Carter. I won’t be able to take your case.”
“Excuse me?”
He rose. “You will not be charged for this morning’s consultation.”
Despite the deceptiveness of his calm expression and tone, there was an undercurrent of disturbance displayed in his blunt movements. Before she could take another breath, he had marched to his office door and swung it open.
He stood expectantly beside it. “Have a pleasant day.”
She felt her face go white with shock. She’d just revealed the most intimate details of her life to this stranger and—what was just as hard—had asked for his help. And he was throwing her out.
Her icy hands gripped the arms of the chair as she rose shakily to her feet. Somehow she got to the door. She didn’t look at him as she slid past. The rush of air as the door closed swiftly behind her was like a blow.
She shut her eyes tightly and fought desperately against the churning, sickening waves. It was no use. She started to run. She barely made it to the bathroom down the hall before she vomited.
As she lay with her cheek pressed against the cold tile floor, she didn’t know what was worse—the morning sickness or the moment of temporary insanity that had led her to the White Knight Investigations’ offices.
But something she did know for certain now. She had gotten herself into this mess, and she was going to have to get herself out of it. There were no white knights on sturdy steeds coming to her rescue.
She had only herself to rely on. And just as she had throughout her life, she would have to find the strength to face whatever came and do whatever had to be done. Alone.
CHAPTER TWO
“OUR CLIENT IS VERY pleased, David,” Charles Knight told his son as he waved a check. “Getting a runaway to voluntarily return to her parents isn’t something we see often. How’d you pull it off?”
Charles sat on the edge of his son’s desk. He was David’s height and still powerfully built at sixty-four, with the finely chiseled features of the men who swung tennis rackets and rode polo ponies in slick magazine ads.
“Her boyfriend convinced our runaway to bail on her family,” David told his dad. “She imagined herself in love and was ready to give up anything for the guy, until I showed her some live-action video of the slimeball getting it on with another girl.”
“Where did that video come from?”
“The guy taped it himself. He gets his kicks filming his conquests of underage girls.”
Charles shook his head. “What are you going to do about him?”
“He’s twenty-one. Jared has all the evidence he needs to make an arrest. I just wanted to be sure our client’s daughter was home safe and out of the fray before the law got involved.”
“Smart of you to bring your brother in on this, David. As always, you have thoroughly thought out every aspect of this case. So, why are you frowning?”
David took the file in front of him and shoved it into his open desk drawer. “Didn’t realize I was.”
“Something on your mind?”
David closed the drawer and looked up at his dad. Those steel-blue eyes had him in their sights. Charles might have the look of a country club man, but David knew his dad had the keen instincts and cunning of a cougar.
“I was just thinking about this woman who came by yesterday morning before the offices were open.”
“You caught a cat burglar?” Charles asked with a smile.
“Probably would have been better if she’d turned out to be one.”
The teasing smile faded from Charles’s lips as he studied his son’s solemn face. “So, what’s this woman’s name?”
“It’s not important.”
“Something about her is. You going to tell me?”
David wondered whether he should. Maybe a discussion was what he needed to help put all the churning images and emotions into a semblance of order.
“She wanted me to find some guy she had a one-night stand with. Seems she’s carrying his kid.”
“Not exactly an everyday request,” Charles said, “but I don’t see the problem.”
“She made me drag every detail out of her like I was some prosecuting attorney grilling a hostile witness. Even when I explained that she had to open up and be totally honest if I was going to help her, she still held back crucial information.”
“What crucial information?”
“She was wearing a wedding band, yet she said nothing about being married. And, believe me, I gave her plenty of opportunity to spit it out.”
Charles shrugged. “So she was embarrassed or ashamed or both. I’m not saying that dealing with a cheating spouse is pleasant, just part of the job. And there’s nothing in the private eye book of rules that says we have to like a client.”
“But this one didn’t look like someone who should be lying through her straight, white teeth.”
Charles let out a long breath. “Ah, so that’s the problem. You do like her.”
David knew there was no point in arguing. He was attracted to Susan, had been from the first moment he saw her. Not even her evasions or the fact that she was married changed that.
He shot up from his chair, feeling suddenly confined and inexplicably cornered. He stomped over to the window and stared out at the gray day.
“For two solid years attractive women have entered and left this office on a regular basis and my heart hasn’t skipped a beat.”
“Something about this woman has changed that. Don’t beat yourself up, David. Had to happen sometime. Your body’s just telling you the time has come to get back in the game.”
“The timing’s lousy. Makes no sense at all that I’d be attracted to her.”
“Hell, son, I’ve yet to hear a logical explanation as to what happens to a man’s normal good sense when he gets around a certain woman. But if you feel that uncomfortable around this one, maybe your brother Richard better take her case.”
“The case isn’t ours.”
“She changed her mind?”
“I turned her down,” he said as he twisted to gaze at the now empty chair where Susan had sat.
“That’s not like you, son.”
David knew that. Only too well.
He turned back to the window, where miles of slick, silver streets and gray forest spread out before him. On the distant horizon the majestic snow-capped peaks of the Olympic Mountains gathered what was left of the day’s fading light. But all he saw was the stricken look on Susan’s face when he had all but thrown her out of his office.
“Maybe she didn’t tell me about her husband because he’s some big, mean bastard who beats her,” David said. “Or maybe he’s having sexual problems and can’t perform, and she didn’t want to reveal his weakness.”
“What do you want to do?”
“I want to make this right.”
Charles walked over to his son and rested his hand briefly on his shoulder. “If that’s what you want, then that’s what you’ll do.”
“I’m glad one of us is confident.”
“I know you, David. When you have a destination in mind, nothing gets in your way. You meticulously map out the steps you need to take, and you doggedly follow them until you get there.”
David glanced at his dad. “That used to make you groan when it was my turn to pick the route for a family vacation.”
“Only because your old man is the adventurous sort who likes to set off and see what’s around the bend,” Charles said with his usual hearty flare and no hint of apology. “You have to admit, we came upon a lot of amazing sights when we winged it. Things no amount of planning could have uncovered. Something your mother has never fully appreciated, I might add.”
“You always got us lost,” David said with a growing grin.
“And you always got us there. Using the shortest route. Within the scheduled time frame. Or earlier. Damn showoff.”
David took the punch of pride his father delivered, knowing the spirit in which it was thrown, despite the rocking force of the blow against his upper arm.
Charles checked his watch. “Speaking of time, I’d better get going. Have to swing by Jack’s office to see if he’s completed a background check I asked him to do before I pick up my car at the shop. Got the brakes adjusted today.”
“Need a lift?”
“Thanks, but Jack’s already agreed to drop me off. See you tomorrow.”
After his father left, David resumed his staring out the window.
Might be a good idea to do a background check on Susan Carter and her husband. If he understood their relationship, maybe he’d understand why she had slept with another man.
He really wanted to understand. Susan didn’t seem like the kind of woman who would cheat on a husband.
Still, when it came to attractive women, David knew perfectly well that he had shown himself to be just as blind as the next fool.
SUSAN TRUDGED through the front door of her small town house. The morning sickness was bad enough, but this draining fatigue was something that had begun to plague her all day.
“Hi, Honey, I’m home,” she called out as she kicked the door closed behind her.
There was no response from the quiet house. She figured he must be out in the back. She weaved her way through the jungle of houseplants that were threatening to take over her foyer. She dropped her keys into the smiling jaws of a life-size, brown bear made of wood and slung the strap of her shoulder bag over its head. She turned around to step on the foot of a large, ceramic frog wastebasket.
“Honey?” she called again before she separated the only important piece of mail from the bevy of advertisements in her hands. Sticking the envelope between her teeth, she dropped the junk mail into the frog’s open mouth.
When she released the foot lever, the frog gulped down the junk-mail dinner, a happy rivet emerging from its voice box.
She absently patted the frog’s ceramic head with one hand as she removed the mail from her teeth with the other, slitting open the envelope as she strolled into the living room. The local newspaper had sent her a confirming copy of the ad she had placed in the next edition. She read the wording critically, trying to imagine him picking up the paper and seeing the ad for the first time.
Todd. Susan would like to talk to you about that night you met six weeks ago. Extremely Important! Please write to her at Ad 54.
Short. Attention grabbing. Direct. If Todd read the newspaper, she felt confident that he’d know the ad was for him. She’d much prefer knowing more about Todd before seeing him. But she needed answers, and talking to him seemed to be the only way she was going to get them.
“Honey, where are you?” she called as she stuck the ad copy into her pocket and looked around.
In response, a West Highland White Terrier with one floppy, honey-colored ear came dashing down the stairs.
Susan dropped to a squat and opened her arms. The little terrier hopped off the final step and trotted toward her, dragging a boot in his mouth and wagging his tail with enthusiasm. When he reached her, she gave him a quick rub of welcome.
“How did you get into my closet?” she asked, as she tried to wrestle the boot from his jaws. After a playful tug-of-war, Honey reluctantly relinquished the boot.
As Susan rose, she looked closely at the large size and encrusted mud on the boot’s sole. Not one of hers.
She looked around, noticing what she had missed earlier because of her preoccupation with the ad. Out of place in the tidy room was an empty wineglass. The wine bottle was nowhere in sight.
Uh-oh. Not a good sign.
Her eyes traveled up the spiral staircase, where she spied the boot’s mate on the top step.
She trudged up the stairs with Honey trotting along beside her. She entered the bedroom and spied the empty bottle of wine lying on top of the nightstand.
Honey jumped on the bed and headed for the dented pillow where he had obviously been sleeping when she’d come home. On the other pillow rested a head covered with long, curly black hair.
She circled the bed and plopped down on the edge. She gave the bare foot poking out from the covers a gentle shake.
“Ellie?” she called.
The woman asleep in the bed snored.
“So, what’s the trouble with Ellie?” Susan asked her terrier.
Honey twisted around on his short legs to look at the sleeping woman. He gave his fury round body a mighty shake.
“Don’t know either, huh?” she said. “Guess we better get the coffee on and try to find out.”
ELLIE TREMONT SLUMPED over Susan’s kitchen table, her hands circling a cup of black coffee, tears streaming down her rosy cheeks. Susan’s best friend had the face of a cherub, the body of a Victoria’s Secret model, and the unerring bad judgment of a Las Vegas gambler when it came to picking men.
“She’s a gourmet cook and knows the season’s statistics of every Seahawks player,” Ellie lamented before punctuating her words with a sob. “How do I compete with a woman like that?”
Susan rested her hand briefly on her friend’s arm. “Love isn’t a competitive sport, El.”
“I got so filthy on the Port Townsend shoot that I had to drop by the apartment to change before going back to the office,” Ellie said. “And what did I find? That woman in the kitchen, wearing nothing but a smirk.”
“That woman did you a favor, El. Always better to find these things out sooner rather than later.”
“Why wasn’t I good enough for Martin?” Ellie said, and let out another moan.
“You were always too good for him,” Susan said. “Remember, this is the guy who thinks a romantic evening is your picking up the pizza and beer and serving him while he sprawls on the couch watching sports on the TV.”
Susan watched Ellie straighten. A good sign. Her friend was listening.
“I’d also lay odds that he’s a lousy lover,” Susan said. “Men who cheat are too self-absorbed to really care about a partner.”
“I should have suspected something when she became his boss,” Ellie said. “Being underneath a woman doing all the work has always been his favorite position.”
Ellie grabbed a tissue, dabbed at her eyes. “I should be glad to be rid of him,” she continued. “He’s nothing but a lazy, cheating, lousy lover!”
“That’s the spirit.”
Ellie smiled. “You’re a good friend.”
“Takes one to know one,” she said, returning the smile.
“Yeah, but you never dump on me the way I’m always dumping on you. Last thing you’d ever do is hook up with the wrong guy. Not that you’ve hooked up with any guy since Paul died. Why would you want to? Paul can never be replaced. He was perfect.”
While Ellie sipped her coffee, Susan stared at the gold band on her finger and all it represented. The courageous, steadfast widow honoring her wonderful, dead husband.
She wondered what Ellie would say if she told her about that insane night with Todd. And the pregnancy. The staid, straight Susan Carter gone mad. Would Ellie even believe her? Probably not. Susan still barely believed that night had happened.
Honey grumbled loudly from beside her chair. When Susan looked down at him he was sitting on his backside, food bowl in his teeth, front paws slicing frantically through the air.
“Oops, sorry, Honey. I forgot the time.”
She slipped out of her chair and headed for the refrigerator. She pulled out a small piece of cooked steak, removed the plastic wrap and dropped the meat into Honey’s waiting bowl. Honey set his bowl down with an audible sigh of doggie relief.
“You did the right thing choosing a dog over a man,” Ellie said, watching Honey happily gnaw on his dinner. “They are a hell of a lot more loyal.”
“Sometimes,” Susan said as she slipped back onto her chair. “And sometimes you come home to find them in bed with your best friend.”
Ellie smiled. “You want to know the truth? Honey’s a better snuggler than Martin ever was. I should get a dog. At least if they stray, you can have them neutered.”
Honey’s head swung toward Ellie, his ears straight up as he made a noise of considerable doggie alarm. He grabbed his steak and ran for the doggie door leading out to the backyard.
“He sure doesn’t miss much,” Ellie said, laughing, as she watched him hop through. “Which reminds me. Did I miss anything at work this afternoon?”
“Nothing that won’t keep until tomorrow.”
“You covered for me,” Ellie guessed.
“Just like you would have covered for me.”
“Except you’ll never need me to.”
“You never know, El.”
“Oh, I know. Even when we were teenagers and my dingbat of a dad and your ditzy mom were screaming mad and taking their frustrations out on both of us, you never let either of them get to you.”
“I’d had a lot of practice dodging insults by then.”
“That’s what I mean, Suz. You know how to tough this stuff out. And you’d sure as hell never move in with the wrong guy and let him treat you like dirt.”
Susan put her hand on her friend’s arm. “Neither would you. That’s why you came here when you found out about Martin’s cheating. You had too much respect for yourself to stay there another minute.”
Ellie sighed. “I get soused on a bottle of wine and somehow you manage to make me feel proud.”
“You should be proud. When you give your word you keep it—not like those bozos you’ve been all too ready to believe. One day you’re going to realize how great you are. When you do, I bet you find a guy who really appreciates you.”
“I’d like to, Suz. I really would. But there are just so few men out there who want to make a commitment and settle down. You were so lucky to find Paul.”
She released Ellie’s arm, realizing her friend had missed the message she had been trying to send. But that was Ellie. She heard the things she wanted to and ignored the rest. Susan suspected she probably did the same thing.
“So, what’s on for you tomorrow?” Ellie asked.
“I’m driving over to the other side of the Sound. One of the staff at Camp Long called to say he saw a red fox bring food to a vixen at a den site. He thinks she might have a new litter. Some good pictures of the pups would make a cute spread in next month’s issue.”
“I suppose you’ll be leaving at the crack of dawn?” Ellie asked.
“Oh, long before it cracks. Red foxes hunt at night. If I’m in position at first light, I might get lucky and catch the male returning to the den with a late meal.”
“I was afraid of that.”
“Why afraid?” Susan asked.
“I don’t want to go back and move my stuff out of Martin’s apartment tonight. I was hoping I could stay here with you guys.”
“Not a problem if you don’t mind Honey jumping on the couch with you when I leave tomorrow morning. He hates being alone when I go out on an early shoot.”
“I never object to sharing my bed with a warm male,” Ellie said smiling.
“Then, that’s settled. There’s leftover chicken casserole in the refrigerator, twenty-three of our favorite romantic comedies on tape, and Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough ice cream in the freezer.”
Ellie laughed. “I keep getting my heart broken and you keep pulling the right medicine out of the Susan Carter doctor bag. Tell me, why am I always falling for the wrong guys?”
Susan knew Ellie didn’t really want to hear the honest answer to that question. The only time Susan had ever given her one, her candor had nearly cost her their friendship. Sometimes the most important part of being a friend was knowing when to keep your mouth shut.
“A gal can only choose from what comes swimming by,” Susan said as vaguely as she could.
“Which has to mean I’ve been fishing in a piranha pool,” Ellie said, with a sad shake of her head.
Actually, she wasn’t far off.
“At least I didn’t let go of my apartment this time,” Ellie said.
Yes, that was a good thing. Maybe Ellie was getting a little smarter. “You ready for me to heat up that casserole?”