Tell Me a Story (14 page)

❧

The next two days were strained. Flynn and Ann had decided not to tell Becky about her father. If there was some mistake, there was no sense in getting her hopes up only to have them dashed. There'd been enough disappointments in her young life.

Every time Flynn looked at Becky, he was reminded of how little time was left. Every time he looked at Ann, he saw so many questions that he was afraid to ask.

There was so much left unsettled between them, things that had nothing to do with Becky. Where was their relationship going to go once Becky was gone? They'd made love and then circumstances had parted them as firmly as if they'd been on different continents. Since the death of Becky's mother, there'd been no opportunities to think about the two of them.

Ann had never mentioned his oblique suggestion that they marry in order to adopt Becky. Flynn wondered if she had been mortally offended or if she'd understood and shared his desperation. He wanted to ask her about it, but there never seemed a moment when they could really talk. Or, perhaps, they were both afraid to find out what would happen when they finally didn't have Becky to serve as both link and barrier between them.

But she wouldn't be there much longer. What then?

❧

The day Becky's father was supposed to arrive, Ann stayed home from the hospital. The sudden showers that had drenched southern California had given way to more typical sunshine. It was the kind of weather that made visitors to L.A. wonder why anyone would ever live anywhere else. Flynn was not impressed.

All he could think about was the meeting with Traherne. Father or not, he wasn't turning Becky over to the man until he was sure she'd be cared for. Ann occupied herself in the kitchen, baking endless batches of cookies and burning every other panful. Becky had opted to play on the balcony, losing herself among the greenery.

When Joe buzzed up from the lobby to say that there was a Mr. Traherne here, Flynn felt as if the world had come to a halt. He hadn't realized how much he'd been hoping the other man wouldn't show up until this moment.

"Send him on up, Joe."

He turned from the intercom and met Ann's eyes, reading the same uncertainties that he was feeling. He forced himself to smile, wanting to ease some of the tension from her face.

"Hey, how bad can he be?"

The knock on the door came before she could say anything. Flynn gave Ann a thumbs-up and went to answer the door. Ann couldn't make herself follow him. What if Becky's father turned out to be a blustering, obnoxious creep? How could they let Becky go with someone like that? How could they let Becky go at all?

There was a murmur of male voices as Flynn answered the door. Ann had only a second to offer a garbled prayer, not even sure what she was asking for.

"Ann, this is Rafferty Traherne, Becky's father."

Ann offered her hand to the man next to Flynn, trying to keep her surprise from showing in her face. She wasn't sure what she'd expected. Someone not quite so large and ... She reached for the right word to describe him and finally came up with solid. Rafferty Traherne was definitely solid.

The first surprise was his hair. For some reason, she'd expected him to share Becky's pale gold coloring. But his hair was gray. Not sprinkled with gray but solid steel. The color was unexpected, the more so when it was easy to see that he was still in his early thirties.

At six foot tall, he had none of Flynn's lean whipcord strength. He was built like a bulldozer. Broad shoulders and hands that swallowed her own fingers. There was nothing here that reminded her of Becky's delicate bone structure. Nothing to show that he was related at all until she looked into his eyes. They were the same clear gray as his daughter's. And they gave her that same feeling that they could look right into her soul. Something told her that this man would not be easy to lie to.

"How do you do, Mr. Traherne."

"Please, call me Rafferty. I understand you've been taking care of Becky." His voice matched his body. Deep, dark and strong.

"Well, between the two of us, Flynn and I have been looking out for her."

"I appreciate it." His eyes flicked away from her, and Ann knew immediately what he was seeking.

"Becky is outside. We thought it would be best if we had a chance to talk to you before the two of you met."

"Of course." If he was impatient to see his daughter it was impossible to read it in his face, but Ann suspected that Rafferty would never be easy to read.

"Why don't we have a cup of coffee. I know you must have a lot of questions." She looked at Flynn and he nodded.

"Good idea. Have a seat, Traherne. I'll get the coffee."

He disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Ann alone with their guest. She led the way to the fireplace grouping, seating herself on the sofa and watching him sink into one of the chairs. Like Flynn, he dominated the overstuffed piece of furniture without effort.

"How is Becky? All they told me was that she was in good health."

"Becky is wonderful. She's bright and very mature for her age."

Flynn came in, setting a tray of cups on the coffee table. "Becky is a great little girl. She deserves a solid home."

Ann flushed at the edge of hostility in his voice, but Rafferty seemed to take it in stride. "I never intended for her to have anything else. I can understand your concern. From what Ms. Davis told me, you've done an awful lot for Becky."

Flynn picked up a coffee cup and settled into the other chair, stretching his long legs out in front of him. He was the picture of total relaxation, and Ann wondered if it was her imagination that made tension seem to hum around him.

"I found Becky sleeping in the alley behind this building. She'd been on the street for three or four days and she'd been alone for two weeks before that. She's a hell of a gritty kid."

Rafferty's mouth tightened at the recital of what Becky had been through. "I can't believe Maryanne would just leave her alone like that. She's just a baby."

"From the sounds of it, Becky was the more mature of the pair. I don't think your wife had a whole hell of a lot of common sense."

Rafferty stiffened and Ann held her breath. Flynn was deliberately trying to antagonize the man. Even if what he said was true, couldn't he have found a more tactful way to say it? Slowly, the tension eased from

Rafferty's broad shoulders. His mouth turned up in a rueful smile.

"I can't blame you for speaking your mind, Mc-Callister. You've done a lot for Becky, things I should have been there to do. I guess that gives you the right to ask a few questions.

"You're right. Maryanne didn't have much common sense."

Flynn set his coffee cup down and leaned forward, all pretense of relaxation gone. "What I'd really like to know is why your wife felt it necessary to take Becky and run away from you. I've had Becky in my care for over a month now and if you hadn't turned up, I was going to adopt her. The government may be satisfied with the fact that your name is on her birth certificate but, until I'm satisfied, Becky is staying right where she is."

The two men stared at each other, weighing and measuring in some way that Ann couldn't follow. Whatever he saw apparently decided Rafferty in Flynn's favor. He nodded slowly.

"I'd feel much the same in your position."

"Good. Then you wouldn't mind telling us why your wife took Becky and ran away."

"Maryanne was a very high strung, very sweet girl. And I use the word 'girl' deliberately. She just didn't seem to know how to grow up. I thought maybe she'd grow up when Becky was born but she didn't. She was a good mother but I'm not sure she ever really figured out that this wasn't a doll to play with. She'd dress the baby in fancy outfits with little ruffled hats and take her out in the stroller to show her off. When Becky was two, Maryanne bought matching mother and daughter outfits. They looked like something out of a magazine."

He was silent for a moment, lost in memories. He shook himself, coming back to the present with an effort. "I'm a doctor and my hours aren't all that regular. Maryanne wanted someone who could be there to pet and hold her, someone to take her out to dinner so she could show off her clothes. I wanted someone who understood how important my work was to me."

He shrugged. "It was a classic case of two people who didn't have enough in common. We quarreled a few times but never anything major. I wanted her to grow up and she wanted me to be a father figure. There was no middle ground."

He reached for a coffee cup, turning it absently. His hands were huge and Ann had a hard time imagining them holding a scalpel or anything smaller than a tractor.

"Maryanne... did something that she thought was going to make me very angry. She was right. I was furious. But she'd been told that when I lost my temper, I was downright dangerous." He set the cup down, linking his hands together loosely, elbows braced on his thighs. "I'll be the first to admit that I've got a nasty temper but I've yet to hit anybody, much less a woman. But she didn't know that and she thought... Hell, I don't know what she thought."

His fingers tightened on each other until Ann was sure that knuckles would crack. "We quarreled and I stormed out of the house. I went for a walk and ended up spending the night on a friend's sofa. I went straight to work from there. I figured we could both use the time to cool down. When I got home, she was gone and she'd taken Becky with her.

"I hired investigators but no one could turn up a trace of Maryanne or Becky. For all I knew, they were both dead, until I got the phone call from Ms. Davis."

He stopped speaking and no one else seemed inclined to say anything right away. Rafferty had told the story without fanfare or dramatics. He might have been talking about something that had nothing to do with him. But Ann had watched the way his fingers knotted over one another and she knew just how much it had cost him to dredge up the old memories. She looked at Flynn and could see that he was impressed despite himself.

"It's going to be awfully hard on Becky to just pack up and move. To her, you're a total stranger."

Rafferty nodded. "I know. She's just lost her mother. You two are the only security she knows right now. How did she take Maryanne's death?"

"Pretty well, I guess." Flynn took a swallow of coffee, his eyes on the cup. "I'm not sure she's completely grasped the reality of it. I think there's a part of her that still expects her mother to come back but we've done what we could to help her."

"Does she know how her mother died?"

"We decided to tell her that her mother fell and hit her head. Which, for all we know, is the truth. The coroner said that she died from a blow to the head but they don't know whether it was murder or an accident. She might have fallen accidentally and the guy she was with panicked and left her body in an aqueduct."

"Or he could have killed her." Rage rumbled in Rafferty's voice and Ann spoke quickly.

"We don't know that."

"And we never will." He thrust his fingers through his hair, tousling it into waves of gray. He gave her a quick, strained smile. "Don't worry. I'm not going to go hunting for this guy. There's nothing I can do for Maryanne. I've got to concentrate on Becky. I want to get to know my daughter again. You two know her a lot better than I do. What do you think would be the best way to tell her who I am?"

It was clearly not easy for him to ask for help, and Ann could not help but respect him for putting Becky's need above his own pride. She glanced at Flynn, but he appeared willing to let her take the lead.

"We thought that if Becky had a chance to get to know you before you leave, maybe even before she knows who you are, it might take a lot of the pressure off of her."

Rafferty stared at her for a long moment and then his eyes dropped to his hands. "You mean I should just hang around and let her get used to me and then tell her who I am? Seems like a hell of a way to get to know my own daughter, sneaking up on her?"

Flynn answered the pained question. "Becky's been through a lot lately. If we just drop it on her that her father has arrived, it's going to be pretty hard on her. You can stay here. There's plenty of room and it will give her a chance to get to know you without any pressure."

Rafferty ran his fingers through his hair and Ann held her breath, waiting for his decision. It couldn't be easy for him to rely on the advice of a pair of strangers for how to deal with his own child.

"Isn't she going to wonder why I'm staying here?"

"We can tell her that you're a friend of mine." Flynn's offer was made without expression, and Rafferty studied him for a long moment before nodding slowly.

"All right. I appreciate the offer."

Ann allowed herself to relax for the first time since hearing of Rafferty's existence.

"Now, I'd like to meet my daughter."

"I'll take you out and introduce you." They all stood up, but Ann caught Flynn's arm when he would have led Rafferty out to the balcony.

"I think Rafferty might appreciate a chance to meet Becky without an audience. She's out in the garden." She gestured to the sliding glass doors.

Rafferty gave her a grateful smile. "Thank you."

Flynn said nothing, but the muscles in his arm were rock hard beneath Ann's fingers as he watched the other man open the door and step out, sliding the glass shut behind him.