Baby, You're Mine. Peggy Moreland
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said.
She was going to have to stop being so intuitive.
“Do you regret not being close to your father before he died?”
“My father wasn’t close with anyone.”
“And that’s what upsets you.”
This was getting too personal. “It upsets me that he didn’t tell us about Jackson.”
“You wish you knew your father better?”
Yes. And he wished he would have been kinder on the phone the last time he’d spoken with him.
“I didn’t know my mother,” Georgia said. “I can see how you’d be upset. It seems like your relationship with your father was like not having one at all.”
“You had Ruby.”
She smiled, a radiant, toothy smile that lightened his mood in an instant. “Yes. I do have Ruby.”
Carson heard the attendant announce that it was time for first-class passengers to board.
“That’s us,” he said, standing.
She looked up at him, smile fading, completely caught unaware. She hadn’t guessed they’d fly first-class. She hadn’t thought of it until now. She was accustomed to flying coach and not boarding first. He grinned, and she frowned at him as she stood up, more of a smirk.
They were the first to board.
* * *
Georgia had never flown first-class and she was pretty sure Carson had done this on purpose. Of course he’d get first-class tickets, but he was enjoying this far too much. It was a nice introduction to the benefits of having money, which she suspected was his intent. Show her that having money wasn’t bad.
She sat on the spacious, comfortable seat next to the window, watching him bring down the tables in front of them and begin to spread out the papers he’d gathered on the people they’d question once in Raleigh, North Carolina.
“Have you ever flown coach?” she asked.
“No, but I flew in military planes. Is that common enough for you?”
He hadn’t asked in a mean way. His tone was teasing. “Doesn’t your family have a private jet?”
He stopped sifting through the papers. “Yes, but I thought you’d be more comfortable flying commercial.”
“This is first-class.”
“You’re not comfortable?” He surveyed her seated form with animated flare.
She had to suppress a smile. How could she be enjoying this? He was taunting her.
“I’m comfortable.”
“You look comfortable.” He surveyed her again, only this time some heat made its way into the play.
Ever since her last relationship, she hadn’t been eager to seek out a new man. Actually, she hadn’t even thought about finding anyone. It hadn’t ended well and she wasn’t anxious to start over. Besides, Ruby needed her right now. She paused. Why was she thinking in terms of a relationship with Carson? She had just met him. Were these sparks she felt leading to something? She wouldn’t allow it. He was the son of the man who’d broken her stepmother’s heart. Reginald and his rich family hadn’t accepted Ruby. So why would they accept her? Why would Carson? He was just having fun teasing her.
“Uh...” She looked down at the table in front of him. “Maybe we should...” She indicated the papers there. She couldn’t possibly be interested in Carson. He was putting on a good face now, but who was he, really? Reginald’s son.
“Right.” He picked up the first report. “Penelope Johnson was Ruby’s neighbor. She’s moved since then. At the time of Jackson’s kidnapping, she was going through a divorce. She took her son with her. Problem is she lost custody of him in the divorce.”
“She took him?” She took the page he held from him. “Where did you get these?”
“From Whit’s assistant. They were among Dad’s things, but we don’t think he’s checked into them yet.”
“Wouldn’t the police already have talked to them?”
“I’m sure they did.”
She searched the document but didn’t see anything significant.
“Penelope had just moved in a week before Jackson was taken. Police caught her and she was arrested. The charges were later dropped. She still lives in Raleigh.”
“Why did she lose custody?” She handed the paper back to him.
“Drug addict. She did go to rehab, though. Two years after she lost her son.”
Penelope didn’t seem like a very reliable witness. If she was wigged out on drugs, what would she remember? And she’d essentially kidnapped her son. Would she have kidnapped Jackson? It didn’t seem likely, but probably best not to discount the possibility.
“Who else is there?” she asked.
Carson handed her another report.
She appreciated that he included her, but she needed time to read through these.
“Evita Marrero was the housekeeper,” he explained for her. “She quit after the kiddnapping and according to my father’s report, not on friendly terms.”
Georgia sat back against the seat. “Ruby told me about that. Reginald was hard on her. She hates him. She won’t feel like helping us.”
“We’ll see.”
“Why did Reginald want to talk to them? I can see the neighbor, because of the trouble she was in, but the housekeeper? Do you think he had an affair with her that ended badlly?”
“No. He was faithful to Patsy, although I don’t know why.”
“He wasn’t the same person back then, though, was he?” He was nicer as far as Georgia could tell.
“No,” Carson reluctantly answered.
She took in his perturbed face. It bothered him that his dad might have been different. “And if he was faithful to his wife, then he must have hung on to some of his principles.”
“Yes.”
“It is important that your woman stays faithful?” she asked. Those pesky sparks had compelled her. She was curious about him. Or was she hoping she was wrong about him?
“Well, yeah. Who wants the person they’re involved with to cheat on them? Anyone who does has no respect for the one they’ve betrayed.”
She told herself that she’d already started this conversation. She may as well finish it. “You talk like a man who’s experienced it firsthand.”
A flight attendant stopped by and greeted them, interrupting and offering menus.
Carson put the papers down and took the menus, then asked for a specific bottle of champagne with strawberries.
Georgia eyed him as the flight attendant said, “Of course, sir.”
They’d get into Raleigh well after dinner, so they’d have to eat on the plane. That hardly warranted champagne. Georgia saw what he was doing and didn’t comment.
“Strawberries?” she asked.
“Delicious with champagne. One of my favorite combinations.” He leaned closer. “And something we rich people love to indulge in.”
Champagne and strawberries. Where was the caviar?
“I’ve had it before.”
He leaned back. “There you have it, then. You have rich tastes and I bet you never even knew it.”
She couldn’t