Receptionist Under Cover. C.J. Carmichael

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ Nadine struggled to keep her expression neutral, as if she ran across situations like this all the time. “And is he?”

      He shrugged. “I assume so. June Stone and I dated in our senior year of high school. After graduation, she went to university, while I worked until I had enough money for my first trip to Europe. We’d always known we had different plans, so our breakup was inevitable.”

      “Where does the baby fit in?”

      “Apparently June was pregnant when we broke up.”

      “And you didn’t know?”

      “No. In her letter, June said she decided not to tell me because she didn’t want me to feel like she was trying to trap me into marriage.”

      “I assume she kept the baby?”

      “Yes. She named our son Stephen and raised him on her own. He’s eighteen years old now, and he doesn’t even know I exist.”

      “June must have told him something about his father.”

      “Apparently she led him to believe that his father was dead.” Patrick shifted anxiously in his seat. “She said when he was young, she didn’t have the courage to tell him the truth, and once she became ill, she didn’t have the strength.”

      “I see.” Perhaps June had been telling him the truth. But Nadine knew it was her job to be skeptical, to accept nothing at face value. “So why contact you now?”

      “In a way, she didn’t. This letter was mailed posthumously.”

      Nadine felt her eyes widen and quickly glanced down so he wouldn’t see her surprise. “I’m sorry.”

      He nodded, accepting her brief statement of condolence. “Apparently it was her wish that these letters were to be mailed to me after her death. As soon as I read the one addressed to me, I went on the Web and found her obituary. She died of cancer five weeks ago.”

      His story was sounding like something from a movie, poignant and romantic. Nadine reminded herself that her job was to be objective and analytical. “Why do you think she wanted you to know about Stephen now?”

      “She felt that since her son no longer had a mother, he might need a father.” He shook his head. “She asked if I would contact Stephen and deliver this second letter in person.”

      Nadine eyed the unopened envelope. Why hadn’t June asked for that letter to be mailed directly to Stephen? There was only one reason she could think of. “She didn’t want her son to know the truth unless you were prepared to meet with him.”

      “Exactly. Whether Stephen and I strike up a relationship is up to us, June wrote, but she did say she’d be grateful if I would help Stephen financially, with his university education, since her long illness depleted her financial resources.”

      “Ah.” At the mention of money, Nadine’s back straightened. Had June Stone been aware of Patrick’s successful writing career? Possibly she’d stretched the truth a little—or a lot—in an effort to provide some financial security for her son.

      Still, Patrick didn’t seem to doubt the truth of her story. Not one word of it.

      “You said the letter was mailed posthumously. By whom?”

      “I have no idea. The return address is the apartment in Chelsea where June and her son used to live. The place has since been let to someone else.”

      He shook his head. “I wish that I’d kept in touch with June. For a while after we separated we kept up a correspondence. I sent her postcards from my travels and every Christmas she mailed a card to me care of my mother’s address. But after a few years, that stopped. I hadn’t heard from her in years. Until this.”

      “So now you want to talk to Stephen Stone?”

      “Yes. Only I have no idea where to find him. The letter didn’t provide any contact information.” He unfolded two sheets of paper that looked as if they had been read over many times.

      “May I read that?”

      He hesitated, then passed it over. “I’m not even sure her son lives in Manhattan. As I mentioned, he left the apartment he lived in with his mother. I also phoned the funeral home listed in the obituary, but they couldn’t help me.”

      Nadine glanced up from June Stone’s handwritten lines. “I assume you checked the phone listings?”

      He nodded. “I called every S. Stone I could find. And I searched the Internet, including Facebook. I can’t find him anywhere.”

      “That’s unusual, for someone his age, though he could be using a nickname on Facebook. Some kids do.”

      “Yeah. That’s what I figured. I’m kind of at a dead end here and I don’t have much time, since I’m on a tight deadline with my next book. Do you think you can help?”

      He looked her straight in the eyes, and Nadine could see that he wasn’t totally convinced that he’d come to the right person.

      Keeping her gaze direct and confident, she nodded. “Like I said earlier, finding missing persons is a specialty of our firm. As it happens, I’m between cases right now and I could start on this immediately.”

      Okay, technically that was a lie, but Nadine told herself it wouldn’t matter, not as long as she found Patrick’s son for him. Which she was determined to do.

      Patrick’s eyes held hers a moment longer, and then he nodded. “Okay. Let’s do it. What’s the first step?”

      She struggled to keep her excitement contained. “We sign a standard contract and you pay a retainer.” She mentioned the base amount, figuring this case probably wouldn’t take very long. When Patrick indicated his agreement, she asked him to wait while she drew up the papers.

      “Too bad your receptionist isn’t here to do that,” Patrick commented.

      She was halfway to the door when he said that. She paused briefly and glanced back at him.

      From his expression it seemed there had been no double meaning to his words, so she smiled and nodded. “That’s okay. It won’t take me long.”

      Fifteen minutes later, the business between them was concluded. “I’ll call you in a couple of days and let you know how things are progressing,” she promised as she passed him his copy of their agreement.

      His chest expanded on a full breath. “Okay. So…any idea how long it will take to find Stephen?”

      “That depends on several factors. But normally, in a case like this, we have results in three or four days.”

      She could see the relief on his face and knew she’d finally won him over.

      “Great,” he said. “I’ll look forward to hearing from you then.”

      One last time their gazes connected, and she felt again the power of his presence. She sensed he had a mental toughness to match the physical perfection of his athletic body. But this letter from his old girlfriend had exposed a СКАЧАТЬ