Return of the Prodigal Son (4 page)

BOOK: Return of the Prodigal Son
4.58Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Then there was their mother.

As he made his way back to the house, Donovan thought about Andi Brady. For someone so young, she had her hands full. A dead husband with a checkered past, a ton of unwanted notoriety and a couple of troubled kids. He’d bet any amount of money that her friends were probably avoiding her and her creditors were circling around, ready to jump in at their first opportunity to clear their own debt at her expense.

Still, she wasn’t at all what he’d been expecting. He didn’t know how he’d missed her the first time around, when he’d been in college and she in high school. A man would have to be blind not to notice a woman like that.

It would seem that Champion Mackenzie’s little sister had definitely grown up.

“Here, Cory.” Andi began unpacking a box of clothing. “I’ll put your clothes on the bed and you can hang them in your closet.”

He leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. His look, as always lately, was one of defiance. “Why can’t you hang them?”

“Because it’s your closet. You may as well arrange them the way you’d like.”

Andi turned away and began hauling out shirts, jeans and assorted jackets and sweats. As she worked she thought about what Champ had told her. He’d managed to persuade Donovan to look into Adam’s case. Though her own hope had begun to fade, she had to keep trying, for the sake of her children. Champ had said that if anyone could find a needle in a haystack it was Donovan Lassiter.

Donovan Lassiter. She went very still, her work forgotten.

The first time she’d met him, in her brother’s dorm, she’d been completely tongue-tied. Champ had warned her about his roommate, and had filled her in on the family history. While her girlfriends had flirted shamelessly, she’d hung back, too afraid to even speak to him. Like all teenage girls she found the solemn, moody Donovan a romantic figure. She’d even begun to weave a few fantasies about him. In her mind’s eye, she saw herself bringing a smile to those angry lips and a gleam in those steely blue eyes. But once she immersed herself in college life, Donovan Lassiter had faded into a pleasant, romantic memory. Though she’d never completely forgotten him, she’d been startled by the intense feelings evoked by their little encounter just now. She’d felt that same impact when she’d looked into his eyes. And the touch of him had left her almost paralyzed.

She turned to look out the window at his house on the hill. It was almost completely hidden in the woods that surrounded it. Somehow she thought that would suit Donovan Lassiter. From what her brother had told her, he hadn’t changed much from that solitary, lonely young rebel. Still, she was determined to go along with whatever demands he made on her children. If she had to, she’d keep them locked inside the house all day. It was little enough price to pay for what he might do for them in return.

“Mom?”

Cory’s voice broke through her thoughts.

“You’ve folded and unfolded that sweatshirt a dozen times now. Want me to stash it in a drawer?”

“Oh.” She managed a weak smile. “Here.”

As she handed it over, she picked up the empty box, tucking it under her arm. “I think I’ll start on Taylor’s room now.”

Cory didn’t answer. He was holding a wallet-size photo of his father that had fallen to the floor. On his face was a look of pain mingled with anger.

She felt a knife twist in her heart. It was one thing to lose a father in a tragic accident. That would be enough to shatter a child’s heart. But to discover that their father wasn’t the hero they’d always admired, but a criminal who had stolen millions of dollars from unsuspecting victims, was a burden that no child should have to bear.

She let herself out of her son’s room and closed the door before leaning against it and closing her eyes. Cory wasn’t alone in his confusion. She’d loved Adam Brady from the first time she’d met him. She missed him so much she ached. And she had steadfastly refused to believe that he was capable of criminal behavior.

Still, sometimes in the stillness of the night, she found herself questioning everything. Her blind defense of a man who wasn’t here to defend himself. Her gut feeling that he’d been a good, honest man. She’d even begun questioning their love. Had there been someone else? Could he have stolen millions and left them with a lover?

It was too incredible to consider, even for a moment. She hadn’t imagined Adam’s love or his goodness. Those who believed otherwise were wrong.

She took in a deep breath and started toward her daughter’s room. There was no time to give in to self-pity. This was what life had handed her. Like it or not, she’d live with it.

Chapter 3

D
onovan’s day had slowly gone from bad to worse. Because he’d been unable to get back to sleep, he’d decided to begin his own investigation on the Adam Brady case.

At first glance, it seemed simple enough. Brady had been invited to join Neil Summerville in his fledgling investment company. Since Brady came from an old banking family, he was able to use his connections to secure some impressive accounts, and the two men had made millions for their clients, as well as for themselves. Though neither man was flamboyant, they lived well. Membership in one of the city’s most exclusive country clubs. Homes that were showplaces in the rolling Virginia countryside. Their children attended prestigious private schools.

According to the documents filed by the district attorney, the authorities were already closing in on Brady and Summerville when their plane went down. It was then that an examination of their books showed that the only clients that had been defrauded were those handled by Adam Brady. In the beginning, the amounts of money funneled from the accounts had been small enough that the clients didn’t notice. But then the thief had become bolder, helping himself to more and more of his client’s funds, and covering himself by showing losses in various investments. It was only after one very astute client had caught the error, and complained to Brady personally, that the authorities had been notified. Brady had agreed to cooperate fully by opening his company books to an independent audit.

And then the plane crash.

Donovan flipped through the pages to the crash report. The plane and pilot had been leased through a small, reputable company located at Washington’s National Airport. A flight plan had been filed with the proper authorities. The plan had been to fly to Chicago for a meeting with clients and to return the same day. The weather had been stormy, with high winds, but the pilot had been confident that once they flew above the storm, they would have no trouble. The plane had barely been airborne when it crashed off the Maryland shore. Recovery from water is always messy. This was no exception. Despite their best efforts, only parts of the plane and bodies were recovered. But from what was salvaged, the authorities could find no sign of foul play and ruled the crash an accident.

Donovan sighed and tossed aside the documents.

He shouldn’t have taken this on. He had a book to write. A life to sort through. The last thing he needed was a greedy investment counselor and his grieving family messing with his mind.

He decided to walk down the hill for his mail. It was nearly a mile from his house to the main highway, where the mail was delivered. He liked it that way. It was one more thing that didn’t intrude on his solitude.

After rummaging through a box for a clean T-shirt, he had to hunt up his shoes. He found one by the door, the other beside his bed. He picked his way between boxes and stepped out onto the porch, surprised to see that it was already late afternoon.

As he started along the path between towering evergreens, a fat woodchuck sat up and watched from behind a screen of ferns.

Seeing him, Donovan frowned. “Hiding out from those city kids, aren’t you?” He shook his head. “I don’t blame you. They don’t know enough to leave wild things alone.”

The woodchuck waddled away, leaving the ferns rustling. As he continued along the gravel path, it occurred to Donovan that he could have been talking about himself as well. He was comfortable alone. Always had been. He resented the intrusion of other people into his life. That’s why his government career had been such a perfect fit. Not only was he not expected to make permanent attachments, but it was actually frowned upon. A man with a wife and children was a liability. The most effective men in his work were, like him, loners, with nothing to lose except their own lives. As for being wild, it went with the territory. There had been no timid men in his line of work. At least none who’d survived.

He caught sight of the rental house up ahead and lifted his head at the smell of woodsmoke. Since it was too warm for a fire in the fireplace, it must mean they were having a cookout. He stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans and noticed that the front porch had been swept and the cobwebs removed from the overhang. Not that it mattered. Though he owned the house, he didn’t care what they did with it. As far as he was concerned, it was theirs as long as they paid the rent.

He followed the rough road to the highway and paused at the row of mailboxes. After retrieving his mail he started back along the same trail. He hadn’t taken more than a couple of steps before he felt the hair at the back of his neck begin to prickle. He paused to tie his shoe. As he did, he chanced a quick glance around. Though there was no one in sight, he was certain he was being watched. It was second nature to Donovan to always trust his instincts.

Tucking his mail in his back pocket he continued walking, all the while listening for any sound that seemed out of place. Gradually he sorted it out. A soft footfall in the woods to his left. Definitely not an animal. He slowed his pace, and realized that the footsteps slowed, as well. When he picked up the pace, he could hear the footsteps moving faster.

When he reached a spot where the trees grew together, forming an arch that blotted out the light, he took a quick turn into the woods, pausing beside the trunk of a tree. Within moments he saw a shadow approaching. In one smooth motion he reached out and closed his hand around a skinny wrist.

Cory Brady let out a yelp and looked as though he’d just seen a ghost. “Hey. What’re you doing?”

“I might ask you the same thing. Anyone sneaking up on me could find himself in a whole lot of trouble.” He released the boy’s wrist and noted the quick flare of challenge in Cory’s eyes. “Something in particular you wanted to know about me? Or were you just having fun?”

“How’d you know I was here?” Cory rubbed his flesh and wondered at this man’s strength. The boy’s arm felt as though it had been caught in a steel trap.

“Maybe I have eyes in the back of my head.”

“Only moms have that.”

“Yeah.” Donovan nodded. “Now that you mention it, I seem to remember my own mom seeing all the things I was hoping she wouldn’t.”

The boy stepped back, putting some distance between himself and this mysterious man. “How’d you know I was there?”

Donovan shrugged. “I have my own personal radar. Why were you following me?”

It was the boy’s turn to shrug. He looked down at the ground and kicked at a stone. “Sorry. I just…” He glanced up, then away. “Uncle Champ said you were a secret agent or something.”

“More like or something.” Donovan stepped back on the path and started walking. “So, you wanted to see if I was passing secrets to some foreign courier?”

“Maybe.” Cory moved along beside him and gave him a nervous glance. “Were you?”

“Sorry to disappoint you. I was picking up my mail.” As they neared the house, Donovan motioned toward it. “How’s your new place?”

“It’s all right. Mom’s going nuts trying to get everything cleaned up and put away. She can’t stand clutter.”

“Yeah?” Donovan almost smiled. “She’d really go nuts at my place. I’ve been there a month and still haven’t unpacked.”

“You mean it?” Cory was clearly impressed. “And nobody yells at you or anything?”

“There’s nobody to yell. I live alone.”

“Yeah. That’s what Uncle Champ said. I mean…” The boy looked embarrassed. “He said you like being alone. And Taylor and I weren’t supposed to bother you.”

Just then a worried voice sounded from the back yard. “Cory.”

“That’s Mom.”

Donovan nodded. “I can tell.”

“She’s always bugging me to let her know where I am. Even when I’m just going for a walk.”

“You’re new here. She’s probably afraid you’ll get lost.”

“She yelled at me back at our other place, too. She’s been scared ever since…” His words fell off and he gave a quiet hiss of breath.

“Maybe you ought to let her know you’re all right.”

“I will. It’s just—” he kicked at the dirt “—I just like to be left alone sometimes, you know?”

“Yeah. I know the feeling.”

The front door slammed and Andi Brady cupped her hands to her mouth to shout, “Cory!”

She was startled to see him standing with Donovan. “Oh, thank goodness. I was worried.”

The boy’s tone hardened. “I told you not to worry about me.”

“I try. But I just can’t help myself.” She smiled as she walked closer. “If I’d known you were with Mr. Lassiter, it would have put my mind at ease.”

“Don’t you remember? He said we could call him Donovan.”

“Sorry. I forgot.” She glanced at Donovan. “We were just going to eat. Will you join us?”

As he began to shake his head in refusal, she added quickly, “Nothing fancy. Just hot dogs on the grill in the backyard. We’re eating on the picnic table, because we haven’t unpacked the kitchen boxes yet.”

Cory’s mouth turned down in a frown. “I said I’d do it tomorrow.”

Andi touched a hand to his arm. Just a touch, but he jerked away as though burned.

She sighed. “I’m not trying to lay blame, Cory. I know you said you’d do it tomorrow. For now the outdoor grill is just fine.”

She turned to Donovan, struggling to keep her smile in place, though it was an effort. “Want to join us?”

He tried to remember if he’d eaten all day. The only thing he could recall was an apple. And that had been hours ago. But more important than the offer of food was the fact that Andi Brady was wearing a pair of shorts that displayed her long, long legs, and a shirt tied at the midriff. He’d have paid an admission fee just to sit and stare. “Okay. As long as you’re sure it’s no trouble.”

BOOK: Return of the Prodigal Son
4.58Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Playing for Keeps by Kate Perry
Love Story by Kathryn Shay
Beneath the Surface by Cat Johnson
Somewhere My Love by Beth Trissel
Secret Legacy by Anna Destefano
Darlene by Pearl, Avyn
A Gangster's Girl by Chunichi