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“I’ll start looking first thing in the morning. Where do you suppose the old records are?” Devon asked Edward as they reentered the sitting room.
“Some of them are in files in the manager’s office. But between Trask’s men and Amanda Baron, they got a pretty thorough going-over. My bet is anything useful we find will be in the attic. I’ll show you the way up there in the morning.” He crossed the room at the sound of a knock on the door. “And speaking of dinner, here it is.”
“Great,” Devon said. “I’m starved.”
“Where is that nosy butler?” Phil asked with a scowl. “Why doesn’t he come tiptoeing in here to answer the door?”
“I gave him the night off,” Edward replied, stepping aside to let the young waiter wheel the cart of food into the room.
“Good.” The old man glanced around as the waiter set a plate of roast beef and vegetables in front of him. “We will eat in peace tonight, without that dead fish staring over our shoulders.”
“Enjoy your meal,” Edward said with a grin, adding a splash of soda to his Scotch.
“I will,” Phil assured him as the waiter left them alone. “My appetite is back. Eat up,” he insisted, waving his fork at Devon, who was inspecting his vegetables, removing the steamed carrots with the same diligence he’d employed as a boy twenty years before. “And then early to bed. You will have a long, busy day ahead of you.”
“Yes, sir,” Devon said, reaching for the salt. “I’ll behave like I’m on a holy crusade.”
“Enough,” Phil said sternly, but he laughed at Devon’s irreverence.
“Dad.” Edward felt compelled to temper his father’s enthusiasm. “Don’t get your hopes up. Devon is looking for a needle in a haystack.”
“He will find the man for us. For Alyssa.” Phil lowered his head and began to eat. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing more to say.
For Alyssa.
Edward watched his father and stepson for a long moment before joining them at the table. He didn’t think Alyssa would thank him for what they were about to do. She’d been holding him at arm’s length ever since he’d returned to Tyler. Their past was no more dead and buried than was the mystery of Margaret’s death.
He didn’t love her anymore—he’d told himself that over and over again. But he couldn’t get her out of his mind. He couldn’t reason with her. He couldn’t even argue with her—she never let him close enough for that. Now he’d put in motion forces that were almost certain to push them even farther apart.
Not only was he attempting to unravel the secrets of that long-ago night without consulting Alyssa, he was keeping her in the dark about something else.
Another buyer was interested in Ingalls F and M. And within forty-eight hours, Alyssa would learn that the bidder was DEVCHECK, the investment company he owned in partnership with his stepson. Alyssa also didn’t yet know that Edward fully intended to come out of the negotiations in control of her father’s failing business.
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_be16757f-c1d2-5b9d-ad39-e704af2d54e9)
“EVEN WITH the new contracts for replacement parts you just signed, we’re going to have to stop production before the new year,” Johnny Kelsey said, as he sat before the desk in Judson’s office. “I recommend shutting down the week before Christmas and New Year’s. Then we can call everyone back and keep going until possibly the middle of January. Maybe something will turn up by then.”
Alyssa watched her friend and former classmate closely. He’d been foreman at Ingalls F and M for years. He knew almost as much about the business as her father did. More than once Judson had wanted to promote him to a management position, but Johnny had always refused. He belonged on the plant floor, he’d say. And that was where he meant to stay.
“I agree,” Alyssa said, trying to hide the depression that was bearing down on her heart and mind. “If it isn’t a recession here, it’s trouble with European trade restrictions, or record harvests in South America pushing down the price of grain. The Russians…you name it. It makes American farmers wary of going any further into debt to buy new machinery.”
“Sales are soft,” Johnny agreed, leaning back in his chair. “That’s a fact of life. You’re going to have to lay off some people—that’s also a fact of life.”
“I’m not good at this, Johnny,” Alyssa said with a self-mocking smile. “I’m a whiz at planning Fourth of July parades and chairing fund-raising committees, but not running a business.”
“You’re doing a fine job.” Johnny returned to his earlier position, elbows resting on his legs, his big, work-scarred hands clasped between his knees. “But I think it’s best if the workers hear the news from the old man himself.”
Alyssa gave a rough little laugh. “Don’t you think I know that?”
“The folks down on the floor are worried by all the rumors of the Japanese trying to take over the place.”
“They’re not rumor, Johnny. You know that as well as I do. The Nitaka Corporation has made a formal offer for the plant.”
Johnny snorted in disgust. “Offer, my…butt. Sell to us or we’ll take you over by force. That’s not an offer, it’s a threat.”
“It’s business,” Alyssa reminded him wearily. “It’s the way things are done these days. The Japanese have the money and they want a bigger share of the agricultural industry.”
“If we just had six more months. Or a year,” Johnny said, shaking his head in agitation. “We could do it. We could hold on, get a chance to bid on some bigger contracts. Recapitalize.”
“That’s impossible and you know it,” Alyssa said sharply, remembering her embarrassment at having asked Edward Wocheck for a loan to do just that.
“A guy can dream, can’t he?” Johnny asked, smiling to lighten the mood.
“Yes, we can still dream.”
“It would help if your dad showed up here once in a while,” Johnny suggested. “Bad news like the layoff won’t be so hard to take if everyone sees Judson back to his old form.”
“I’d like nothing better myself.” Alyssa crossed the room and looked out the window, over the harvested fields to the dark line of trees in the distance that bordered the south end of the lake. She crossed her arms under her breasts and turned back to face her friend. It was time Johnny knew how badly the stress and uncertainty of the trial had undermined Judson’s well-being.
“He won’t come here, Johnny. He won’t even come out of his room unless Jeff or I insist.” Alyssa was very glad that her son, Jeff, and his new wife, Cece, had remained in the huge Victorian house with her, Judson and Amanda until they could find a place of their own. It helped to have these young, happy people living in the too-quiet house. “I’m worried about his health. And his…state of mind.”
“I know, Lyssa,” Johnny said, reverting to her childhood nickname. “I’m worried about him, too.” A tiny part of Alyssa’s brain that refused to ignore such things registered the fact that Johnny calling her Lyssa had none of the effect on her nervous system that Edward Wocheck’s use of the diminutive produced. “He won’t even see Tisha. She’s been crying on Anna’s shoulder almost every night since the trial ended.”
“I—I haven’t told him there’s been a second offer for the plant,” Alyssa confessed, rubbing her hands up and down her arms as though to ward off a sudden chill. “Have you had any luck finding out about this DEVCHECK Corporation?” She hadn’t told her father about being approached by the investment company. She felt guilty about it, but she wanted to hear what the representative of the firm had to say first…before she turned him down.
“No time,” Johnny said, glancing at his watch. “But we’re going to know soon enough. What time did you say the guy was supposed to be here?”
“At eleven. He’s late,” Alyssa said, frowning at the clock above the door.
“That clock’s five minutes fast,” Johnny reminded her. “So your dad could get where he was going on time. He hates to be late.”
Alyssa smiled. Johnny was right. Her smile faded away. These days all Judson could be persuaded to do was to shower and dress and make it downstairs for dinner.
The speaker on her desk beeped and the voice of Judson’s secretary of twenty-seven years, Adelia Fenton, came over the intercom. “A Mr. Devon Addison of DEVCHECK is here to see you, Mrs. Baron.”
“Devon Addison!” Alyssa’s blue eyes locked with Johnny’s.
“Devon Addison?” he repeated, as though he hadn’t heard her correctly. “Eddie Wocheck’s stepson?”
“So that’s what it stands for!”
“Devon and Wocheck,” Johnny said, punching his fist into the open palm of his other hand. “DEVCHECK.”
“I should have figured it out the moment I heard it,” Alyssa said, steepling her fingers in front of her mouth. She realized she was holding her breath and let it out in a whoosh. She moved back behind the desk and pushed the intercom button. “Show him in, Adelia,” she said, sounding as much as possible like the business executive she was not.
The door to the outer office opened and Devon Addison walked in. He was a tall young man, blond haired and gray eyed, devilishly handsome and with a smile that could melt harder hearts than Alyssa’s. Unless the women possessing those hearts were as angry as she was now.
“Good morning, Mr. Addison.” She held out her hand.
“Good morning, Mrs. Baron.” His handshake was firm and friendly.
“I’d like you to meet our foreman, Johnny Kelsey.”
“Nice to meet you,” Johnny said, but he didn’t sound as though he meant it.
“Likewise, Mr. Kelsey.” Devon’s easy smile remained in place. The two men shook hands briefly.
“Won’t you have a seat, Mr. Addison,” Alyssa said politely, but she didn’t return his smile.
“Thank you.” Devon sat down in the chair next to Johnny. Alyssa sat also, although she would have preferred to remain standing. The small advantage in height would have helped.
She came straight to the point. “Whom, exactly, are you representing this morning, Mr. Addison?”
“I wish you’d call me Devon,” he said with another easy smile.
Alyssa didn’t smile back.
“I’m here on behalf of my family and myself,” he began. “DEVCHECK is a privately held investment company. The major stockholders are my grandfather, my mother, myself and my stepfather.”
“Edward,” Alyssa said before she could stop herself.
“Yes.”
Alyssa was grateful to feel another energizing surge of anger course through her veins. So Edward was trying to take advantage of her father’s withdrawal from the world as everyone else was. What a fool she’d been to ask him for a loan the other day. What a fool she’d been to answer his questions about Ingalls F and M’s prospects for the winter. He hadn’t asked because he was concerned for the welfare of her company, or herself, he’d asked because he wanted more information about the difficulties they were in. And she’d given it to him, offered more, even, than he’d asked for. What a fool she was. What a blind, naive fool.
“I might as well tell you up front, Mr. Addison,” she said, leaning forward, both hands braced against the edge of the desk. “Ingalls F and M is not for sale. At any price.”
Devon’s smile disappeared. His gray eyes hardened and his jaw tightened. “I think you should hear me out first, Mrs. Baron.”
“It would be a waste of time.” Alyssa kept her gaze firmly on Devon’s face, but out of the corner of her eye she could see Johnny shift restlessly in his chair. He obviously wanted to hear what Devon’s proposal was.
“It would be…foolhardy not to listen to what I have to say.”
Alyssa bit her tongue to keep from saying what she wanted to. “Of course, you’re right, Mr. Addison,” she said, deliberately making herself relax back into her father’s big leather chair. “Please, go on.”
“I’m here to make you an offer for controlling interest in Ingalls F and M on very favorable terms. They’ve all been spelled out in detail in our original offer.”
“Our lawyers are still looking over the papers.” Alyssa was regaining her composure. After all, he was only one man, young enough to be her son. She’d sat in this office not once, but twice, with three very determined Japanese businessmen, and managed to keep them at bay. She could do the same with Devon Addison.
Devon wasn’t taken in by her diversionary tactic. “I’m sure you’ve already taken a look at them. I’m certain you also realize DEVCHECK’s plans for Ingalls are far more favorable, more in line with your own wishes for the future, than what Nitaka is offering.”
“That remains to be decided.” She should have known they would have seen a copy of the Nitaka offer. She wondered briefly where they’d gotten it. “At this moment, however, I can tell you that Ingalls F and M are not for sale.”
“Let’s not beat around the bush,” Devon said, still affably but with a hint of steel underlying his words. “If you don’t decide to deal with DEVCHECK—” he tapped the copy of the agreement he’d brought with him with the tip of his finger “—you’re going to end up dealing with the Japanese on a far less even playing field. The changes DEVCHECK plans to make will benefit the company and all of Tyler in the long run. The changes Nitaka plans to make…” He left the sentence unfinished. He didn’t have to say more. They both knew what he was talking about.
“Will you guarantee to keep all our people, at full wages and benefits?”
“I can’t guarantee there won’t be changes,” Devon said carefully. “Making the F and M profitable won’t be easy.”
“That’s what I thought. You’re wrong, Mr. Addison. Your offer isn’t so very different from Nitaka’s. They ended our discussion the same way. I’ll take everything you’ve said into consideration.” Alyssa stood up. She held out her hand, but couldn’t manage a smile. “Thank you for coming. I’ll let you know when I’ve made my decision.”
“I hope it’s the right one.” This time there was no hint of threat in his voice, but he added nothing to soften the impact of his words. “I’ve enjoyed meeting you. I hope we’ll see each other again. Mr. Kelsey.” He turned to shake Johnny’s hand, then left the office without looking back.
“Whew. He’s one tough cookie,” Johnny said, breaking the silence and the tension left behind by Devon’s exit.
“I can see why Edward places such confidence in him.” Alyssa continued staring at the closed door. “He’s very good at what he does.” She glanced over at her father’s most trusted employee and her companion since childhood. “But no amount of ‘friendly advice’ is going to make me change my mind. A threat is a threat, no matter how politely worded.”
Johnny chuckled. “And maybe Eddie is going to find he bit off just a little bit more than he can chew, trying to yank the rug out from under you and your dad?”
“Maybe.” Alyssa reached into the desk drawer for her purse, letting her anger sustain her, refusing to think any farther into the future than the next few minutes. “And maybe it’s also time Edward Wocheck heard the words straight from the horse’s mouth.”
* * *
“YOU’RE BACK earlier than I expected,” Edward said, looking up from the faxed reports lying on his desk in the former storage room he’d appropriated for his office. It was a bare-bones operation—desk, chair, telephone fax machine and not much else—but he didn’t mind. “How did it go?”
“Not quite as smoothly as I’d hoped,” Devon admitted. “By the way, Alyssa Baron is one foxy lady.”
“Yes, she is,” Edward said, as if it made no difference to him whatsoever. “A very foxy lady.”
“The kind of lady worth waiting for,” his stepson added, as if it made no difference whatsoever to him, either.
“Yes, she is.” Edward didn’t elaborate on the statement. He shuffled the papers he’d been reading into a stack and set them aside. “I take it she didn’t jump at our offer.”
Devon laughed a bit sheepishly. “You might say that. You didn’t tell me she can be a real ice queen when she sets her mind to it. I expected to rattle her pretty easily.”
“And?” Edward couldn’t help asking.
“She listened to what I had to say. Said she’d consider the offer and showed me the door.”
“She’s Judson Ingalls’s daughter, all right. It looks like I’ll have to speak to the lady myself.” Edward found he was looking forward to confronting Alyssa. They’d been no more than polite acquaintances since his return to Tyler. They’d seen each other infrequently, spoken rarely and never about themselves. With the exception of that one fleeting kiss at Christmas almost a year before, under the mistletoe, they hadn’t touched at all. He didn’t know what he wanted from a relationship with Alyssa Ingalls Baron. He only knew he wanted one. But before that could happen, there was business to conduct.
“I thought that’s what you might say,” Devon said as he rose from his chair. “Well, I’ve done what you asked of me. Now it’s your turn. You promised to show me the attic. I’d like to see if there’s anything of Margaret Ingalls’s still up there while the daylight’s good.”
“So that’s why you’re dressed that way,” Edward said, rising from his seat. Devon was wearing gray sweatpants and a sweatshirt from Columbia, his alma mater. “I thought maybe you were going to ask me to join you for a run.”
“Maybe later. Right now I want to play detective,” Devon said, only half-joking.
“I’ll show you the way. We rewired the attic when we were working on the lounge and reception area, but it’s still minimal lighting up there.”
“That’s what I figured. Sundown comes pretty early around here,” Devon commented as they left the office and headed for the out-of-the-way staircase that led to the attic.
“I told you the winters are long and cold.”
“And hardly a ski lift in sight.”
Edward glanced sharply at his stepson. Devon’s face was turned away, however, so he couldn’t tell if he was in earnest or pulling his leg. “You can always join your mother in Switzerland.”
The younger man shrugged. “Maybe,” he said, as Edward opened the inconspicuous attic door and snapped on the overhead light.
