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“Let’s face facts, Mother,” Beth said gently. “I’m suspected of murdering my ex-fiancé’s new wife in my office. The press is going to play this only one way.”
“Let them,” Megan insisted sternly. “Everyone who knows you will realize how absurd their implications are.”
“But those who don’t know me will wonder,” Beth pointed out, “and that could hurt the clinic. Just when we’re ready to lay one scandal to rest, another pops up. At the very least, the twenty-fifth-anniversary celebration will suffer.”
“Not at all,” Megan assured her. “Most of the invitations have already been accepted. After today’s announcement that the parents of our darling Chase have come forward, the rest will come around. You’ll see.”
All Beth could see at the moment was that she wasn’t going to be able to shake her mother’s staunch belief in the victory of truth and the ultimate invulnerability of her family. But then, she didn’t really want to. Unfortunately, all she could do was pray that nothing and no one else did it for her, and that was exactly what she did for the remainder of the trip to the clinic.
Traffic was worse than usual. The limo crawled or stood still more often than not, so they were almost late for their own press conference. They had time to run through the clinic to the back hall. The other members of the family were waiting for them, and they gathered around as soon as Beth drew near, offering hugs and asking questions.
“Are you all right?” Ellie, Beth’s twin, immediately demanded. Identical to Beth except for the shorter hair and lighter lipstick, Ellie seemed to have found a new confidence since her marriage to Sloan Cassidy. Not wanting to subject the family to any more publicity, the two of them had secretly eloped over the New Year, much to everyone’s delight. Beth smiled and nodded to reassure her sister. Ellie’s tailored, sleek business attire and short, neat hair contrasted sharply with her own, eclectic ensemble of broomstick skirt, boots, cropped sweater and corduroy jacket. Ellie, to Beth’s mind, was the intelligent one, the professional one, not that Beth would have traded places with her. She loved working with children. Ellie’s career choice as Maitland Maternity’s administrator seemed deadly dull and unnecessarily stressful, but Beth couldn’t help feeling that Ellie secretly garnered more respect than she did as the director of the day-care center. That belief, however, did not color her great love for—and pride in—her sister.
“What happened at the police station?” her brother R.J. wanted to know.
Mitchell was right beside him. “Those idiots didn’t charge you, did they?” he asked.
Beth shook her head. “No.”
“Of course they didn’t,” her older sister, Abby, insisted. “Who in his right mind would suspect our Beth of murder?”
“You might be surprised,” Jake said, holding himself, as usual, at a little distance from his siblings. He had whispered to her as she was leaving for her interview with the police detectives that, if push came to shove, he had a few connections who might help them get at the truth, but Beth knew that she wouldn’t ask him to pull any hidden strings for her unless she saw no other hope. Jake was much too protective of his shadowy life, and she didn’t want to jeopardize that privacy.
“This will have to wait,” Megan instructed calmly. “We have a press conference to conduct. We’re going out there and present a united front to that mob of jackals. We have nothing to hide, nothing to be ashamed of or worried about. Remember that, all of you.”
Anna, who usually skipped these occasions since she, like their brother Jake, had no professional connection to Maitland Maternity, stepped up to link her arm with Beth’s. Ellie took the other arm. Abby stood next to their mother, with R.J. and Mitchell flanking them, and Jake brought up the rear. Megan lifted her chin, as regal as any queen, then she put out her hand, shoving open the door and leading them all onto the railed landing that lent itself so perfectly to this sort of thing.
Flashes went off. Cameras started rolling. There was a general jostling of bodies as reporters surged closer, jockeying for position, microphones swaying over their heads. Megan stepped to the microphone mounted on the railing and lifted both arms in a gesture of welcome.
“Thank you for coming.” Immediately she was bombarded with questions.
“Mrs. Maitland, have the baby’s parents been identified?”
“Who has been charged with the murder at the clinic?”
Chelsea Markum, cool and professionally commanding with her vibrant auburn hair and beauty-queen looks, elbowed her way to the front and demanded, “Is Jake Maitland involved with some terrorist organization? And who is this mystery woman he’s brought into your midst? Does it have anything to do with the murder?”
Jake muttered something best unheard and edged away from the lights. Megan laughed. “My goodness, Chelsea, what an active imagination you have.” She ignored Chelsea’s pout and waved down the remainder of the questions. “I’m here to announce that the parents of the infant child left on this very doorstep at our last meeting have, indeed, come forward.”
“Who’s the father?” someone called.
“The father is a distant relative who desires to remain nameless,” Megan went on calmly. “He and the child’s mother are working to put their lives back together and provide a loving home for their son. Surely you realize that this was an act of desperation on the mother’s part. Now that the father is aware of the child’s existence, the couple are working through their differences. Please, I beg you, allow them the privacy necessary to accomplish this.”
“Are you saying that none of your sons fathered this mystery child?” someone asked.
Megan seemed to pause, then said in a strong, clear voice, “None of the fine young men you see standing here with me today had anything to do with that child’s conception. Now, that’s all I’m going to say.”
“But what about the murder?” Chelsea Markum demanded, having recovered from her set down. “Can Maitland Maternity survive this new crisis?”
Beth stiffened, but Megan shook her head. “The tragedy that occurred here last night has nothing whatsoever to do with Maitland Maternity.”
“Isn’t it true that the dead woman caused the breakup of your daughter Beth’s engagement?”
Pointing to another reporter instead of acknowledging Chelsea Markum, Megan tried to ignore the question, but Beth knew it was hopeless. She stepped next to her mother and leaned toward the microphone.
“No, that isn’t true,” she said evenly.
“But the police suspect you, don’t they?”
“You’ll have to ask them that,” Beth said dismissively.
“In fact,” Megan said, once more taking control, “these questions really ought to be directed at the police. I believe the detectives working this case are one Ty Redstone and Paul Jester. Why don’t you ask them these things?”
Beth chuckled inwardly. Poor Redstone and Jester! Her mother had effectively sicced the press on them. She wondered if Ty Redstone would blame her for it, then purposefully pushed thoughts of the attractive detective from her mind. She had more important matters to address—and the perfect forum in which to do it. Once she’d made a public statement, her mother could not gainsay her, and Beth was utterly convinced that this was for the best.
“I have something else to say,” she announced over the buzz of questions flying at them. She shot her mother an apologetic glance. She hated to do this, but she knew that she must. The reporters grew surprisingly quiet. She could see pens poised over handheld notebooks, microphones straining forward to catch her every word. She didn’t make them wait. “For the record, I have no idea who killed Brianne Dumont or why. It certainly was not me. However, my family and I are grieved by this tragedy and want to see the person responsible brought to justice. Given the circumstances, I can understand that some might link me with the crime even though I had no part in it, and that being the case, I am taking a leave of absence from my position as head of Maitland Maternity day-care center until this mystery is solved and the guilty party is found.”
The murmurings this time came from behind her, from her family, but she’d made the decision, and she knew it was right. She knew what she had to do. Cooperating with the authorities was fine, as far as it went; trusting them to exonerate her was something else again. She was not going to sit idly by waiting for someone to rescue her. Her chin went up in a gesture so reminiscent of her mother that her siblings smiled.
Megan took firm control of the situation once more and brought the press conference to a swift conclusion. The final questions came, as usual, from Chelsea Markum, who shouted at Beth and Jake as the family returned to the relative privacy of the clinic. It was only as she prepared to break the news of her leave of absence to her staff that Beth realized life as she knew it had drastically changed, perhaps forever.
CHAPTER TWO
BETH QUICKLY DISCOVERED that the intention of proving her innocence and actually doing it were two different things. Where did one begin? After much thought—and she’d had lots of time for that these past two days—she was convinced that she was being framed for Brianne’s murder. The question was, why? Try as she might, she couldn’t imagine what anyone could have to gain from framing her, and yet she could find no other explanation. One other thing had become clear to her: Brandon Dumont was her strongest suspect.
She was saddened and angered by this. She had once had strong feelings for Brandon. At least, she had tried to make herself believe that she could have strong feelings for him. That belief had waned even before she’d discovered that he was sleeping with Brianne, and had been put to death by Brandon’s insinuation that his betrayal was somehow her—Beth’s—fault.
She had dismissed her anger, telling herself that his response smacked of jealousy and was beneath her, that it was best to put the whole relationship behind her. She had dismissed Brandon’s avowal that she would regret breaking their engagement and tried to lessen his anger by agreeing to tell everyone that he had instigated the breakup himself. Given the tales he was telling about her supposed harassment of Brianne, she had to wonder if that was part of the setup. Why else would he lie to the police? Or had Brianne, for some absurd reason, convinced him that the harassment was taking place?
She was brooding about it all in the mansion nursery, watching a sleeping Chase from the comfort of a well-placed rocking chair, when Megan entered and brushed a kiss on the top of her head before tiptoeing to the crib to worship little Chase with her eyes. Knowing her mother would want to talk, Beth got up and moved toward the door. Megan turned on the baby monitor and followed.
“I’m so glad you kept him at home with you today,” she said softly when the nursery door was closed behind them. “The press was all over the place.”
Beth sighed. “Truthfully, it was selfishness on my part. I needed something to do, and he’s such a sweet baby.”
“Won’t you come back to the day-care center?” Megan asked quickly, but Beth shook her head.
“I can’t, Mom, not now. It’s just not fair to the employees and patients, not to mention the children.”
“If this is about the twenty-fifth-anniversary celebration,” Megan argued, “we’re in good shape there. Most of the invitations were accepted before this happened. Even those who had previously sent regrets have decided they can come, after all, and the acceptances are still trickling in. Honestly, sweetheart, no one suspects you of having anything to do with that poor woman’s murder.”
“Please, Mother, let’s not argue. My mind’s made up.”
Megan sighed. “You always were strong-willed. But if your mind’s made up…”
“It’s the best thing. Now, tell me, how was your day?”
Megan looped an arm around Beth’s shoulders as they strolled side by side down the hall. “It’s better now. I’m looking forward to a long hot bath and a quiet dinner, frankly.” She grimaced and came to a halt. “I forgot. I asked you to invite Janelle and Connor to dine with us this evening. Oh, well. They aren’t really company. They’re family, aren’t they.”
Beth faced her mother across the hallway. “They may be family, but they aren’t coming to dinner because I never got a chance to invite them. Janelle didn’t show up for her visitation today.”
“That’s odd.” Megan’s brow wrinkled. “There was no one at the guest house when I stopped by after lunch, either.” Megan had come home for lunch to see Chase and had visited the guest house on her way to the clinic. Beth couldn’t help feeling that something didn’t add up properly with Janelle and Connor, and it bothered her that her mother didn’t seem to share her concern.
“I thought Janelle was anxious to spend time with the baby,” she said pointedly.
Megan bit her lip. “So did I, but perhaps she and Connor just need some time alone together. They haven’t been reunited very long, you know.”
“Seems to me they’d want their child with them,” Beth said.
With a wave of her hand, Megan dismissed the observation. “Soon enough all the formalities will be met and we’ll have to give baby Chase up to his parents’ care.”
“Maybe so, but if he were my child, he’d have been here just long enough for the DNA tests. They’re simple procedures, after all.”
“It’s like I said,” Megan insisted, not quite meeting Beth’s gaze, “Connor and Janelle need some time to work things out between them.” Beth sensed that her mother was more troubled than she wanted to admit, and finally Megan confirmed it. “Maybe I’d better go over there later, be sure everything’s all right.”
An excellent idea, Beth thought. “You have your bath,” she told her mother. “Then we’ll have a quiet dinner and walk over to the guest house together.”
Megan smiled and laid her forehead against Beth’s. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”
“Uh-huh, but it’s always nice to hear.”
Suddenly Megan grew serious, cupping Beth’s face in both her hands. “I worry about you, darling.”
“I’m fine, Mom.” It was true. She hadn’t murdered Brianne, and she wasn’t going to let anyone frame her for a murder she hadn’t committed. It helped that she had the Maitland influence and money behind her—and Jake’s connections, too—but her real strength was the truth. She kissed her mother’s smooth cheek. “You’re the one with too much on her plate right now.”
Megan sighed, but then her chin went up again. “It’ll all work out,” she vowed, and Beth, at that moment, did not doubt that her mother was right.
JANELLE ANSWERED the door in her bathrobe. “Megan, Beth, how sweet of you to drop by.”
To Beth’s ears, her words sounded just the opposite. “We haven’t interrupted anything, have we?”
Janelle gave her a brittle smile. “Of course not.”
“We just wanted to check on you, dear,” Megan said, striding past Janelle into the tiny foyer of the guest house. The sapphire blue wool of her cape swirled and fluttered as Megan removed it. Beth caught the flash of irritation on Janelle’s lovely face and smiled. Apparently Janelle was feeling somewhat proprietorial about her lodging, but it would never occur to Megan to wait for an invitation into her own guest house, and Janelle ought to realize that by now. A smile smoothed the flash of irritation as Janelle followed Megan, leaving Beth to close the door.
“Well, I’m glad you did,” Janelle was saying. “I was feeling a little lonely, actually.”
Megan and Janelle were settling onto the comfy couch in the small living area when Beth wandered into the room. She couldn’t say why she disliked Janelle. Oh, she’d tried to like her, for Megan’s sake if nothing else, but something about Janelle rubbed Beth the wrong way. The small house felt overheated after the coolness of the clear February night, and Beth pushed her waist-length orange jacket off her shoulders, draping it over the chair that stood to the side of the small entry.
“When you’re lonely you can always visit your son,” she said, to see Janelle’s reaction. “You knew Chase would be at the house with me today. I expected to see you there.”
Janelle seemed shocked, but then she blinked her big eyes until they teared. “I know. It’s just that it’s so hard to see him when I know I can’t take him home with me.”
“Seems to me you could fix that easily enough,” Beth pointed out.
“For your information, I’ve sent for the necessary paperwork,” Janelle informed her coldly. She was all warmth and smiles when she turned to Megan, though. “That’s what Child Welfare wants, isn’t it? A birth certificate?”
“I think that would work nicely,” Megan said. “I’ll speak to them to be sure.”
Knowing that her mother relished having the baby in the house, Beth refrained from pointing out that the DNA testing would be quicker, and Megan deftly changed the subject.
“I stopped by earlier to check on you, but you were out.”
Janelle waved a hand. “Oh, that. Connor took me to lunch, then I had some shopping to do. I brought so few things with me, you know.”
“I knew it was something like that,” Megan said. “Did you have a good day, get everything you need?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Forgive me for interrupting,” Beth said unrepentantly, “but where exactly did you have to send for that birth certificate?”
“What looked like panic flickered across Janelle’s face, but then she smiled, one hand fluffing her hair nonchalantly. “Why do you ask?”
“Just wondering.”
“New Mexico,” Janelle said.
“New Mexico!” Megan exclaimed.
“I wound up in Taos after Connor and I parted,” Janelle explained haltingly, “just wandering around, looking for someplace to settle.”
Megan made some reply, but Beth wasn’t listening, her attention claimed by a noise from the back of the house. She could have sworn that someone was moving around in the bedroom.
“Is someone else here?” she asked sharply, barely aware that she had interrupted Janelle’s complaints.
“What?” Janelle asked loudly. Megan lifted a slightly censorial eyebrow at Beth, and she immediately apologized.
“Sorry. I thought I heard something.”
“You don’t think we have a prowler, do you?” Janelle said loudly, a hand pressed to her chest.
It was all Beth could do not to roll her eyes. What she thought was that Connor was hiding in the bedroom, and she couldn’t imagine why he would feel the need. “No, of course not,” she said.
Janelle heaved a dramatic sigh. “Oh, thank goodness. It’s so quiet here at the back of the property.”
“We’re very safe,” Megan assured her. “The whole compound is walled, and we have an excellent security system. I hired the guards and had everything tested and upgraded after we brought Chase home and the press interest mushroomed.”
“How good you are,” Janelle said, almost purring. “I sensed that about you, you know, before I brought my little babe here.”
She made it sound as if she’d left the baby in Megan’s arms instead of dumping him on the clinic doorstep, Beth thought irritably. She couldn’t help wondering why her mother was buying this act so completely, and she disliked watching Janelle’s patently false gushing.
“Do you mind if I get a drink of water?” she muttered, already moving into the foyer.
“Of course not. You just help yourself,” Janelle answered with exaggerated politeness.
Beth strode through the foyer and the dining nook, with its ice cream parlor table and matching pair of blue-striped chairs, past the short counter and into the kitchen with its bright white cabinets and cobalt blue countertops. She opened a cabinet door and took down a drinking glass, then filled it with water from the tap. Leaning a hip against the counter, she sipped the cool, sweet water and tried to figure out why Janelle irritated her so much.
Something occurred to her, and she drained the last of the water in one long gulp, then placed the empty glass in the sink. She strolled back the way she’d come and was about to step into the foyer when the sound of her mother’s voice reached her, and she automatically paused. Only belatedly did she realize why. Secrets. The tone of her mother’s voice was the one she used when discussing secrets. What secrets could her mother have to discuss with Janelle, of all people?
“No doubts,” her mother was saying. “But no one else understands about Connor. How could they?”
What was this about Connor? She cocked her head, ready to catch every word, then it occurred to her that she was eavesdropping. Purposefully, she moved into the room. “I was just thinking,” she said to Janelle, “I’m sure Child Welfare would send for the birth certificate for you. They could probably get it electronically.”
Janelle stared at her with her mouth open. Megan immediately seized on the notion. “You know, that’s right.”
“Uh, yes,” Janelle said, blinking rapidly. “Yes. Except, um, I—I’m not sure the birth has been recorded yet.” She flapped a hand ineffectually. “I didn’t have the baby in Taos, actually. It’s so expensive there.” She glanced uncertainly at Megan. “I moved to a little town north of there. I—I only saw the doctor a few times, and I never did understand anything he said, his accent was so thick.”
“Was he Mexican, then?” Megan asked.
“I think so.”
“Of course. Well, New Mexico isn’t the end of the world,” Megan said soothingly. “The papers will come, and until they do, Chase will just have to stay where he is.”
“But you can always visit,” Beth pointed out, “as often as you want.” Which so far hadn’t been very often, she mused.
Janelle fluttered her eyelashes and smiled gratefully. “You’re all just wonderful,” she sighed, and Beth wanted to strangle her. She almost laughed, considering that’s what the police thought she’d done to Brianne Dumont. But Brianne had never engendered any dislike in her, not the way Janelle did, and even Janelle was as safe with her as Chase in his crib. Now, if she could just convince Ty Redstone and Paul Jester of that…
JANELLE CLOSED THE DOOR behind her unwanted visitors and folded her arms, fuming. That damned Beth. She could handle Megan. The woman was so besotted with her grandson and so anxious to believe that Petey was her long-lost son Connor that she’d do almost anything Janelle wanted. But Beth was a problem—and another problem was not what they needed just now, not after who she’d seen at the Austin Eats Diner that day. All that crap about New Mexico and sending off for the birth papers ought to buy her some time—time to come up with something else. First things first, though.
“You can’t keep ignoring the kid,” her dolt of a husband pointed out, appearing in the doorway of the bedroom.
“I know that, you idiot! But that’s not our biggest problem at the moment.”
She began to pace. Damn, she’d thought for sure that she’d killed that bitch Lacy the day she’d dumped the kid. If the diner hadn’t been so crowded at lunchtime and she hadn’t been wearing sunglasses and a scarf, her face might have triggered Lacy’s memory. With the amnesia gone, Lacy would remember that she was Chase’s mother, not to mention the small fact that Janelle had tried to kill her with a blow on the head.
“What did you say they were calling her?”
“Who?”
Rage surged through her. The man looked like a movie star, but he was as dumb as a stump. If not for her, he’d still be working a two-bit construction job in Las Vegas, but what a damned nuisance he’d become! Was it too much to ask that he have enough intelligence to follow a conversation? She picked up a brass bookend and hurled it at him.
“Lacy Clark, you overgrown booby! Who else?”
He dodged the bookend and waited to see if she’d pitch the other even as he muttered, “Oh, her.”
“Yeah, her,” Janelle said, sneering, “the woman who gave birth to our Maitland meal ticket.” She drove a hand through her long, dark hair. “Damn! I knew it. I knew she wasn’t dead. Blast her! Why couldn’t she have just died in that alley?”