Because of Audrey. Mary Sullivan
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She put on a good front.
“What are you doing away from the store today? Shouldn’t you be in town drumming up business?”
“I’m closed on Mondays and Tuesdays. My big days are on the weekend.”
“Why were you in the shop yesterday when I stopped in?”
“Just because the store isn’t open doesn’t mean I don’t have work to do.”
She broke the ensuing silence. “Big business in Denver today?”
“What do you mean?” There was no way in hell he was telling why he was heading into the city.
“Are you conducting a big business deal in Denver? Do you need a lot of time?”
To either find out the blackmailer was lying and rip her to shreds, or determine that she might, might, be telling the truth? “Nope. An hour should be more than plenty.”
Considering that Gray had broken down more than halfway to Denver, and the drive total was an hour long, they traveled for a good fifteen minutes in silence, because Gray found it hard to concentrate on conversation when Audrey’s scent and heat and sheer feminine presence filled the cramped interior like thick humidity from a summer storm.
Gray had a fondness for making love in the summer, loved the slip and slide of sweaty bodies during sex.
For the rest of the drive, he tucked his hands under his thighs and gratefully counted telephone poles to kill the temptation to reach for the curves that would make sweaty summer sex sublime.
Sex with Audrey would be nuclear. How could he be so sure of that? He just knew. With her sense of drama and his pure lust, between the two of them they could conjure up one hell of a summer storm. Thunder, lightning, a tornado or two. The whole nine yards.
Once in downtown Denver, he asked to stop at the lab where he needed to get the test kit.
“I’m sorry to ask, but can you wait?” It was too far to walk from the lab in this industrial and commercial development to the woman’s house. Man, he hated being dependent on people.
“How long will this take?” she asked.
“Five minutes.”
She relaxed. “I have time. Go ahead. I’ll wait and then drive you to your other address.”
He almost stumbled getting out of the car, to escape those hot images that had driven the temperature in the small vehicle into the stratosphere, despite the air conditioning going full blast.
In the lab, he bought a DNA test kit, then returned to the car.
Ten minutes later, Audrey dropped him off in front of a coffee shop. They arranged a pick-up location, then she drove away.
Paranoid creature that he was, Gray had purposely asked her to leave him a couple of blocks from the woman’s address. He didn’t want anyone from Accord knowing about her, least of all someone who might somehow use it against him in their battle about the land.
He walked the rest of the way, his outrage growing with each step.
Even if, if, this woman was for real, she had no right to blackmail his father. She was no better than an opportunist taking advantage of an old man, trying to stir up trouble in a stable, respected family.
He felt better with each step.
Action.
First, he’d take her by surprise by showing up. She wouldn’t expect him. If she expected anyone, it would be Dad, an old man past his prime. Possibly, she thought she could manipulate him. She wouldn’t expect Gray, though.
Next, if the kid was home, he’d get a good look at him. Photographs lied, could be interpreted wrongly.
Third, he’d get that DNA test. He was sweating again, the shirt he’d put on fresh this morning already drenched.
Fourth, he’d find out why she needed so much money. Four hundred thousand dollars. Mom and Dad were well-off and Gray was a successful businessman, but that amount staggered him. Floored him. His pace picked up.
And last, he had to figure out the worst-case scenario. What if she did take her photos and birth certificate to the papers? Who outside of Accord would care? Mom and Dad had often attended fund-raisers in Denver and had been part of an active community. Were they still? How many of their peers were still alive? Would it matter if this got out?
This morning, Mom had been so excited about the latest book she’d bought about Jackie Kennedy. She’d sat in the living room in her gracious and graceful glory with her cup of tea, a civilized woman who’d raised a civilized son. But, at this moment, he wanted to do serious damage to a woman who threatened his family.
When it came right down to it, what people thought didn’t matter, neither those in Accord, nor Mom and Dad’s acquaintances in Denver. What mattered was Mom and what this would do to her.
If it were true.
He stopped in front of an old, run-down house, breathless because he’d been practically running in his need to settle this.
Gray double-checked the address on the slip of paper on which he’d jotted it. Yep, right place.
A rusty bike lay on its side on the front lawn, but otherwise, the house was tidy, the grass trimmed.
Everything needed a coat of paint, but both the walkway and the veranda had been swept recently.
Acid churned in Gray’s belly. He knocked on the front door. Despite his resolve to get rid of this woman and the anger that ate at him, his pulse beat erratically in his throat.
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