скачать книгу бесплатно
“All Marines are amphibious, ma’am.” His delivery was deadpan, but the teasing light in his deep blue eyes derailed her for a second. He was joking.
Her look must have mirrored the one he’d given her after she’d laughed, because he raised his eyebrows again and said, “What?”
“I didn’t take you for the joking sort.”
“Sorry to disappoint, ma’am.”
They exchanged a silent acknowledgment that there was more to each other than either had first thought.
Terrific. Lynn’s heart started to pound.
The major widened his stance and crossed his arms over his chest. “But I’d be at the pool because I was relieved of my normal duties and temporarily reassigned to Recreational Aquatics Thermal Regulator.”
She didn’t have the chance to ask for clarification before he provided it.
“I have to check the pool temperature every hour.”
“Really.”
“It was either that or handing out basketballs in the gym.”
She winced. Talk about humiliating for a major to be reduced to such menial duties. And while it beat the heck out of sitting in jail, why in heaven’s name wouldn’t he want to be free of being the pool boy?
He watched her with his jaw jutted, clearly daring her to pity him.
Lynn contained the twinges of exactly that emotion by gripping the file folder to her chest. She cleared her throat. “Well, I’ll leave you to your repairs while I go grab my briefcase and files.”
He studied her, then gave a short nod. “Just be careful of the cat. Make sure it doesn’t bolt out the door.”
No worries there. The only one who’d be bolting out the door would be her.
“I’ll keep an eye out for it.” She turned away, then stopped. “Um, what’s its name?” Why she’d thought to ask, let alone care, was beyond her. She wasn’t the fuzzy-creature type. She wasn’t any creature type.
“Bud.”
“As in a flower or the beer?”
His mouth quirked. “As in Buddy.”
A masculine name from a masculine guy. Still didn’t make the cat any less fuzzy.
She nodded in acknowledgment and headed for the stairs to his second-story condo, her brain unnaturally sluggish given the choice she’d have to make.
If she could keep him out of jail, there would be nothing to prevent him from coming with her to Dependable.
If he pleaded guilty or she finagled the lesser charge and he paid the fine, the Marine Corps would be glad to be rid of him and she could give Joseph what he wanted, and he in turn would give her what she wanted.
But what if Rick Branigan was innocent?
She’d told him she didn’t care about his innocence or guilt, but she’d lied. She’d once been innocent and had had to pay the price for someone else’s actions. An injustice that had festered deep in her chest.
Lynn tucked the file folder under her arm and rubbed at one temple in an attempt to clear her thinking as she climbed the stairs. When she reached the major’s door, she opened it and entered quickly to keep the cat from escaping. She scanned the room as she latched the door behind her. Buddy was sitting on the glass-topped dining-room table, smack-dab in the middle of her files, and looking very much in control of his world.
A personal challenge if she ever saw one.
Lynn marched to the table. “Get off, cat.”
Not so much as a blink in response.
She picked up her briefcase and jammed the file containing the police report inside.
The cat stood, but only to stretch, raising his fluffy rear end in the air and digging his claws into her folders and papers. Lynn planted a fist on her hip and waited for him to finish. Once the claws were back in, she snatched a couple of the bottom files out from under him.
Buddy wasn’t impressed.
She muttered, “Stupid cat.”
The black phone on the kitchen bar rang, and they both jumped, Buddy off the table and Lynn back a step.
The phone rang again, and she glanced at the closed front door, wondering if she should let the major know he had a call. After the third ring and before she could decide, the answering machine kicked on and Rick Branigan’s voice, just as deep and compelling as it was in person, announced that he was out and instructed the caller to leave a message.
No “How’s it hanging?” or even “Hi,” but not rude, either. Just to the point, without embellishment. The man would not be an easy one to figure out.
She shouldn’t want to try.
The machine beeped and a woman’s voice filled the room. “Rick, honey, it’s Mom. You realize, don’t you, that it’s been ages since we talked. I called the base and all they would tell me was that you were unavailable. So, to keep from worrying about you, I’ve been convincing myself your answering machine must be broken.” A telling pause. “If you get this, please call me. And even if you don’t get this, you should still be checking in with your mother more often than this. The way you normally do.”
The woman was clearly striving to be light and joking, but there was a definite undertone of fear.
“I love you. Bye.”
Lynn stared at the blinking red light, the simple endearment making the backs of her eyes burn. Lynn would never have received a message like that from her mother, even if she were still in her life. It’d been years since the longing for family had been this bad.
Feeling ambushed, she swept the rest of the files into her briefcase with a careless hand and turned toward the door.
His mom didn’t know.
The thought stopped Lynn. She forced herself to consider. Why hadn’t he told his mother that his career, and freedom, were on the line? Because he didn’t want to face his mother’s disappointment?
Lynn shook her head. No. He struck her as the type who’d take it on the chin, sobbing momma or not. So why was he putting off the inevitable?
Because he doesn’t want to be talked out of doing what he’s doing.
The specter of his innocence rose again and made her conscience shudder. She shoved the uncomfortable sensation aside.
Maybe Major Branigan might find it easy to tell a stranger to go take a flying leap, but ignoring his mother’s pleas to make the best of the situation and get on with his life was another thing.
Hopefully, he’d be willing to get on with his life under the protective wing of the McCoys in Dependable, Missouri.
An idea bloomed in Lynn’s head and a renewed sense of determination surged through her with a power she’d come to depend upon.
She had no choice but to do anything she could to get Major Branigan in Dependable by July third.
Even if his momma had to drag him there.
WAITING IN HER hotel’s sunny, tropical-themed coffee shop the next morning for Ann Branigan to arrive, Lynn stared at the concentric rings of white that the cream formed as she poured the thick liquid into her coffee. She’d already dumped in the contents of two packets of sweetener.
She used to not allow herself the luxury of making what she considered a nasty drink more palatable, worried that she might be perceived as less tough somehow for not taking her coffee strong and black. But after meeting with such steady success at McCoy Enterprises, she’d lightened up a bit. She swirled her spoon around the cup until the coffee was a pale brown.
Maybe she’d lightened up too much.
Was that why she was having such a hard time sticking with her original neutrality regarding the major’s innocence or guilt? And was that why she’d agreed to wait until his mother could fly down from San Francisco to meet with her in person and talk at length about her son?
Lynn blew out a breath at her own foolishness and pushed the cup and saucer toward the center of the table, bumping the slender vase and its little purple orchids to the side. She’d only accepted being put off by Ann Branigan—after first telling the woman everything she knew, including the details of Marcus McCoy’s will—because it had become plain to Lynn less than two minutes into the conversation that the major’s mother was a woman to reckon with.
Ms. Branigan had not been happy to discover she’d been outed, that the secret she’d kept for so long was no longer a secret.
Thanks to the files Joseph McCoy’s lawyers and private investigators had compiled after the reading of Marcus McCoy’s will naming the women he’d paid off, Lynn had already known that Ms. Branigan was the owner of a very successful architectural design firm. Which was also how Lynn had known to get ahold of her. But Lynn had had no idea how strong a personality the woman would have.
Ms. Branigan had refused to give Lynn any insight into her son until they had a chance to meet face-to-face. Apparently holding on to a million-dollar secret for thirty-three years made her play things dang close to the vest.
But the major’s mom had promised in exchange not to see Rick or talk to him until after that meeting.
She’d better not. Lynn needed her firmly in the get-this-over-quick-and-quiet camp before Ms. Branigan spoke with her son.
And then Lynn could put the specter of past wrongs and the moral consciousness he’d stirred in her to rest for good and go back to never thinking about what was over and done with. She wanted to think only about her future.
A bright one without shadows or fear.
The sound of wooden chair legs scraping on tile brought her out of her thoughts and her head up. An attractive, petite older woman with close-cropped brown hair was pulling out the chair across from Lynn. She wore a tailored leather jacket that matched her hair, over a tan blouse and slacks. A bright red scarf tied jauntily around her neck gave her a splash of color and style.
“Miss Hayes?” she asked, even though she’d clearly assumed she had the right table. Her smile was striking, but tight—so similar to her son’s.
Lynn extended a hand. “Yes. And you must be Ann Branigan.”
“I am.” She slid into the seat with the ease of a woman used to breakfast meetings. The deep grooves on either side of her full mouth and her worry-clouded blue eyes made it obvious this was no regular business meeting to her. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”
“Thank you for flying down here.” Assuming you prove to be a help, not a hindrance.
“How could I not?” She settled in and waved away the waitress and her coffeepot. “While he might not believe it, Rick is the most important part of my world.”
Before Lynn could process the implications of Ms. Branigan’s statement, she asked, “So tell me, how could this have happened? Who has Rick been mistaken for?”
Lynn blinked. His mother had automatically assumed him innocent, despite all the facts Lynn had relayed to her during their telephone conversation the night before.
Lynn’s instincts reared up and shouted, Ha, I told you so! She stubbornly ignored them. “Ms. Branigan, your son confessed. Why would you think it’s a mistake?”
“Please, call me Ann. And I’m positive there’s been a mistake because I know my son, Miss Hayes.”
“Lynn,” she said, leveling the playing field. This woman was obviously the type who would cooperate only if she considered Lynn her equal.
Ann acknowledged her with a nod, then leaned forward, her round face radiating the strength of will her peppy attractiveness would normally belie. “Rick would never drive drunk, and he would never, ever, leave the scene of an accident, whether he caused it or not.” She settled back again. “You see, Lynn, my son is all about duty and honor.”
Lynn’s spirits plummeted. So much for losing moral consciousness.
Through tight lips, she admitted, “I noticed.”
“Hard not to. He lives and breathes the Marine code of honor, courage and commitment. Pretty much always has. When he was a teenager and found out that Semper Fi meant ‘Always Faithful’ he enlisted in the Marines’ college-bound program the next day.”
“Why?”
Ann inhaled deeply as she straightened the silverware in front of her. “When I asked him that very thing, he said he felt he had something to prove—whether to the world or himself, I’m not sure. What he didn’t say—would never say, but it’s something I’ve always known—is that he resents the choices his father and I made when I accidentally became pregnant.”
“You and Marcus McCoy,” Lynn clarified in a low voice.
“Yes. Neither of us wanted a long-term commitment. Marcus, understandably, didn’t want his identity revealed. I agreed to his terms because I’d be able to secure my child’s future by investing the money he was offering in my business. My hope had been that Rick would grow up and take over the company. He had different ideas. And I respect that.”
Different ideas that would cost Lynn her chance for guaranteed security. “But now that his ideas about his future have been effectively demolished, will you help me convince him to take the easiest way out of the trouble he’s in?”
“No.”
Shock loosened Lynn’s jaw, and she fought not to gape.
It must have shown, because Ann’s expression softened and she leaned near. “Not because I don’t want to, Lynn. But Rick—who I know loves me dearly—nevertheless deep down doesn’t respect me. He doesn’t realize that I’m aware of his feelings. And I believe that he struggles with them. But the truth is there in the choices he makes.”
Ann’s sigh held a mother’s regret. “I’ve never been able to influence him. Fortunately, his choices are always ones that I can be proud of. Though they’re not always in his best interest, as far as I’m concerned.” She shook her head. “If he’d chosen to work for me he’d be very rich by now.”
A gloominess stealing over Lynn, she muttered, “He already is very rich, thanks to the inheritance from his father. Very, very rich.”
Ann slumped back. “I suppose he is.” She shook her head again and tsked. “Poor Marcus. A grizzly bear. How awful.”
Feeling as though there was a grizzly bear of her own slobbering down her neck, Lynn clarified. “So you don’t believe you can convince Rick to accept my help or change his mind about this silent acceptance of whatever the punishment might be?”
“I wish I could. And I wish there was some hope that you could convince him yourself.”
Lynn sat up straighter. “What makes you think I can’t?”
“Because I can already tell that he’s going to react to you the same way he reacts to me.”
“Which is?”
“By doing the exact opposite of what you suggest.”
Dread churned in Lynn’s stomach like acid from the coffee she hadn’t drunk. “Why?”
Ann’s blue eyes glowed with certainty. “We’re too much alike, you and I.”
Lynn clenched her jaw. So she was on her own. Nothing new there. It appeared she’d have no choice but to discover the truth about Rick’s accident.
