A Father For Zach (13 page)

She tucked her hair behind her ear. Shifted from one foot to the other. “Well…you probably already have plans, and it’s okay if you do. I know you have family on the island, and I’m sure they’d like to spend the day with you. So don’t feel obligated.” She folded her arms across her chest. Swallowed. “But the thing is…we were wondering…” She paused and cleared her throat.

Zach huffed out an exasperated breath and cut to the chase. “Do you want to have a picnic with us and go see fireworks on the Fourth of July?”

A slow smile curved Nathan’s lips as a blush crept up
Catherine’s cheeks. “That’s funny. I was going to ask you guys the same thing.”

“Honest?” Enthusiasm lit Zach’s eyes.

“Honest.” He kept his gaze fixed on Catherine’s. “I can’t think of anyone I’d rather celebrate my independence with.”

The warmth of her smile chased away the last lingering chill from the darkest corner of his soul.

“Oh, boy! This will be so much fun!” Zach hopped from one foot to the other, unable to contain his excitement. “Isn’t this great, Mom?”

Her smile deepened, producing an endearing dimple on one side of her mouth that he’d never noticed before. “Yeah. It is. We’ll talk about the details after we finish the floor.” She started toward the rooms on the other side of the breezeway. “I know you have another job to go to this afternoon, so we’d better…”

He snagged her arm as she passed, and she stopped. When she looked at him, the pulse fluttering in the hollow of her throat tripped his own heart into double time, and it took every ounce of his willpower to restrain the urge to kiss her. That would have to wait for a private moment.

“Thank you.” He said the words softly, for her ears only. Expressing gratitude for far more than a simple outing.

And she knew it. He could tell by the way her eyes softened with tenderness. And by the gentle, unexpected brush of her lips against his cheek as she stood on tiptoe, then moved on.

Leaving him with a silly grin on his face that he was pretty certain matched the one on Zach’s.

“W
hat’re you looking for, Mom?”

Sparing Zach a quick, distracted glance, Catherine continued to search the kitchen. “I left some money here this morning, but now I can’t find it.” Eight fifty-dollar bills she’d gotten from the ATM last night, to be exact. And she was certain she’d set the envelope containing the cash on the kitchen counter. That’s what she usually did when she got home from running errands.

Truth be told, though, she hadn’t been thinking very straight over the past few days—thanks to a certain visitor with velvet-brown eyes who’d been playing havoc with her metabolism. “Did you see a white envelope anywhere out here, Zach?”

“Nope.” He propped his elbow on the table and took a big bite of his chocolate-chip cookie. “Why don’t you ask Nathan? He came in to get a bandage for my finger while you were on your cell phone in the backyard. I got a splinter. It bled a little, but he fixed it for me.” Her son held up his latex-wrapped pinkie. “Maybe he saw the money.”

Nathan had entered the house uninvited? That was a first. But now that he’d witnessed Zach’s reaction to blood, she could understand his quick response to even a minor injury. And she
had
been on the phone for an extended period with her sister. He probably hadn’t wanted to interrupt her.

Zach was right. It was possible he’d seen the money.

Or taken it.

Shocked by that unbidden thought, her eyes widened. Where in the world had
that
come from? Of course he hadn’t taken the money! Nathan wasn’t hurting for cash. He had more jobs than he could handle, and he’d just sold a painting for an impressive price. Why would he take a few hundred dollars from her?

Because stealing is in his blood.

No!

Catherine gripped the edge of the counter, steadying herself. Why were such hateful thoughts darting through her mind, leaving suspicion and agitation in their wake, disrupting her equilibrium, dimming the joy that had lifted her heart of late?

Nathan had changed. He wasn’t a thief anymore. He was a kind, caring, generous man with high morals and rock-solid principles. And he’d proven that to her in every way humanly possible, demonstrating that her once-a-criminal, always-a-criminal stereotype had been wrong, wrong, wrong.

So why was it rearing its ugly head now? After she thought she’d put it rest for good?

It was unforgivable. And it made her feel awful.

“Do you have a tummy ache, Mom?”

At Zach’s question, she tightened her grip on the counter. “No, honey. Why do you ask?”

“Your face looks funny. Like something hurts.”

Something did. Her conscience.

Pasting on a smile, she released her grip on the counter and topped off his glass of milk. “I’m fine, Zach. Now finish up that cookie. It’s naptime.”

Summoning up every bit of her resolve, she pushed aside her noxious suspicions. She wasn’t going to let doubt infiltrate and destroy the relationship she was building with Nathan. She wasn’t. That would be a huge mistake—one she suspected she’d regret for the rest of her life. The money had to be around the house somewhere. The place had been chaotic ever since the move, and she might have set it down in another room without thinking.

It would turn up. She was sure of it. And until it did, she was determined to banish every last doubt about Nathan from her mind.

Zach rested his chin in his hand. “I could help you look for your money, Mom.”

A genuine grin tugged at her lips, replacing her artificial smile. Her son would try anything to get out of taking a nap. “I appreciate the offer, honey. But I can handle it.”

She retrieved the dishcloth from the sink and joined Zach at the table. Crumbs were scattered over the surface, and she wiped them up into a neat pile and disposed of them.

Vowing yet again to do the same with the unwelcome, insidious crumbs of suspicion that were cluttering her mind.

“You do great work, Nathan. I can’t even tell where the hole used to be.”

Balanced on one knee, he continued to apply the final coat of cream-colored paint to the wall of the family room
in the palatial, ocean-front home where he’d been working for the past three days. And did his best to discreetly put some distance between himself and Danielle Price.

But she only leaned farther over, her long hair swinging close enough to brush his face as she pretended to examine his work.

He had to bite his tongue to keep from telling her to back off.

If he hadn’t been loath to leave a job unfinished, and if this hadn’t been his last visit, he wouldn’t be here today. The twenty-something blonde made him nervous. Big-time. He’d met her fiftyish husband on his first visit, as the man was leaving their summer home for a fishing excursion, and this woman had bored trophy wife written all over her. Worse, she was on the prowl.

He didn’t intend to be her prey.

“Thanks.” He continued to stroke the paint over the repair he’d made in the drywall, feathering it out with a light touch so it would blend seamlessly into the existing paint, hurrying as much as he could without compromising the quality of his work.

“Can I hand you a tool or anything?” She moved in again and leaned a shoulder against the undamaged part of the wall. Shoving her hands into the pockets of her micro-shorts, she exposed a broad section of midriff under her low-cut cropped top. Right at his eye level.

Nathan swallowed past his distaste and did his best to ignore the flagrant flirting.

“No, thanks, Mrs. Price. I’m about finished here.”

She gave him a little pout he suspected she was used to employing to her advantage. He supposed some men might find it appealing. It had the opposite effect on him.

“Now, Nathan. I told you to call me Danielle. We don’t have to be so formal.”

“I always show respect to my customers.” He added a few more strokes, stood and stepped back. It was good enough. “Okay. That should do it. I’ll go clean my brush and get out of your hair.”

He started to turn away, but she startled him by snagging one of the belt loops on his jeans with a perfectly manicured finger. When he looked back at her, she gave him a sultry smile. “I wouldn’t mind having you in my hair, Nathan.”

Disgusted by the blatant come-on, he extricated himself and eased away. “I’m sure Mr. Price wouldn’t be too happy to hear that.”

She gave an indifferent shrug. “He’s gone all the time. When we’re in Boston, he’s at the office. When we’re here, he fishes. A girl can get lonely.” She sidled up to him, her baby blues locked on his lips, her tone seductive. “But you know all about being lonely, don’t you, Nathan? I hear prison is a very lonely place.”

He sucked in a sharp breath and stared at her, blindsided.

A smug smile lifted her lips. “It’s amazing how much you can learn by searching about a person on Google, isn’t it?”

Repulsed, he took another step back. “You checked me out on the Internet?”

She lifted one shoulder. “Why not? I always search the Internet about things I’m interested in.”

His back stiffened. “I don’t appreciate having my privacy invaded.”

She gave a careless shrug. “Your incarceration is public record, Nathan. But that’s beside the point.” She moved in again and rested her fingers against his chest. “The fact is,
my husband is gone. You’re lonely. I’m lonely. The way I keep score, that equals a pair.”

Very deliberately, he removed her hand from his T-shirt. Until now, he’d tried to be polite. This time he made no attempt to warm up the chill in his voice. “Not to me. I don’t play those kinds of games. And for the record, I’m not lonely. Excuse me while I take care of this brush.”

He turned, but not before he caught the sudden bright spots of color in her cheeks. Apparently his customer wasn’t used to having her advances rejected.

His conclusion was verified when he returned to the family room and found her lounging in a rattan chair, paging through a magazine. Her pose was nonchalant, but the cobalt eyes she strafed him with were cold enough to stave off global warming. As was her tone.

“Your toolboxes are in the foyer. Pull the door shut behind you when you leave.”

Without a word, Nathan exited the room. After retrieving the twin boxes, he let himself out and stowed them in the wire baskets on the back of his bike. Then he mounted and took off as fast as he could.

Leaving behind his first unsatisfied customer.

And feeling nothing but relief.

“Hi, Nathan!”

As he biked up the dirt road toward Sheltering Shores Inn the next morning, Nathan grinned at Zach’s boisterous welcome. The youngster was peeking through the split-rail fence that separated the yard from the road, and he gave a vigorous wave.

Returning the gesture, Nathan pulled to a stop. “Hi, champ. What are you doing out here?”

“Mom said I could come out and watch for you.”

He glanced toward the house and spotted Catherine at the window, half-hidden behind the drapes. She was obviously still fighting the protective instincts that compelled her to keep a too-tight tether on Zach. But he gave her high marks for making an effort to subdue them. As far as he knew, she’d never let Zach go into the front yard alone. This was a big step forward.

As he leaned the bike against the rails, Nathan reached into the wire basket behind the seat and withdrew a white bag. “Guess where I stopped?”

Zach’s eyes lit up. “Downyflake!”

“You got it.” He handed the bag over.

“Wow! Doughnuts and cake all in one day!”

“Isn’t ten o’clock a little early for cake?”

“I haven’t had any yet. Mom baked it for our wrap party. She says you’re gonna finish today. By lunch, maybe?”

“That sounds about right.” All he had to do was plane one sticky door and readjust a couple of baseboards that didn’t quite suit him. Other than that, the rooms were finished, giving Catherine three weeks to furnish and decorate them before her first guests were due to arrive.

Retrieving his toolboxes, he set off for the breezeway. Catherine was waiting inside with a smile that brightened his day despite the dark clouds beginning to gather overhead.

“I see you brought a treat.” She gestured to the white bag clutched in Zach’s hand.

“I hear you made a cake.”

“Sounds like we both have celebrations on our minds.”

The soft blush that accompanied her words was charming. And so much more appealing than the in-your-face come-on moves Danielle had tried on him yesterday.

Pushing the memory of that distasteful episode aside, he headed for the guest room on the left. “I don’t think it will take me more than an hour or two to finish up. Then we can get down to the important stuff. Like partying. Right, Zach?”

“Yeah!” Digging into the white sack, he extracted a sugar doughnut. “Is it okay if I have one of these now, though, Mom?”

“Sure. But in the kitchen. On a plate. I don’t want sugar all over my pristine guest quarters.”

“What’s pristine?”

She ushered him toward the kitchen. “Clean.”

“Oh.” He gave up the fight and trotted toward the door, calling over his shoulder as Catherine guided him inside. “I’ll be out to help in a few minutes, Nathan.”

“Okay, champ.”

Five minutes later, when Nathan heard a noise behind him, he assumed it was Zach. But checking over his shoulder, he found Catherine instead. Her smile had vanished, and two parallel creases had appeared on her brow. A tingle of alarm raced up his spine, and he stood.

“What’s wrong?” He took a step toward her. “Is Zach okay?”

“Yes.” She gestured over her shoulder. “But there’s a police detective out front. He says he’s your brother.”

J.C. was here?

Now it was his turn to frown. “What does he want?”

“I don’t know. He just asked to talk with you.”

“Okay.” Nathan set down the hammer he’d been holding, his concern escalating. Maybe something had happened to Marci. Or Heather might be having problems with the baby that was due in six weeks. Or…

Quashing his useless speculations, he eased past Cather
ine, laying a reassuring hand briefly on her shoulder. Then he cut through the breezeway and exited onto the front lawn. J.C. was waiting by his car, and he closed the distance between them in a few long strides.

“What’s up? Is everyone okay?”

“Yeah. We’re all fine. But I need to talk to you about a situation that came up this morning.”

At J.C.’s somber demeanor and grim tone, a flicker of panic licked at Nathan’s gut. Just like the ones he used to feel when the law was closing in on him.

Something bad was about to come down. He could taste it.

A tremor ran through him. J.C.’s eyes narrowed and he took a step closer. “What’s wrong?”

Every instinct in Nathan’s body screamed at him to run. It took a Herculean exercise of willpower to keep his feet planted on the ground. “You tell me. You might be my brother, but I’ve been around cops enough to know when there’s a problem.”

Resting one fist on his hip, J.C. raked the fingers of his other hand through his hair. “I need to ask you a few questions, okay?”

“As a brother or as a cop?” J.C. locked gazes with him. “Let’s be clear on one thing, Nathan. As a brother, I know there’s a reasonable explanation for what happened. But as a cop, I have a job to do. One of the other detectives should be handling this, but the chief and I go way back. He agreed to let me talk to you before this thing gets blown out of proportion.”

“What thing?”

“Where were you yesterday afternoon?”

“In Monomoy. At the Prices’. Finishing up a job.”

“Who was there?”

Nathan tried not to let his distaste show on his face. “Danielle Price.”

“Anyone else?”

“No.”

“Did you see a diamond tennis bracelet lying on the table in the family room?”

“No.”

“Mrs. Price claims it was there yesterday afternoon. Now it’s not. She says the only person who’s been in the house other than her and her husband since she noticed it missing is you.”

As the implication sank in, Nathan’s lungs froze. Early on, he’d pegged Danielle Price as a spoiled socialite who was used to getting her own way. And he knew she’d been angry when he’d rebuffed her advances.