The Truth About Jane Doe. Linda Warren

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      “That will be all, Stephanie,” Rob said before Matthew could make the connection. She immediately left the room.

      “Okay, Matthew, tell us the good news,” Rob said with a slight smile. “I’m sure the Doe girl has agreed to take the money.”

      Matthew had barely opened his mouth to speak when another woman strolled into the room in worn jeans and an oversize silk blouse. The clothes were water stained. She held a white poodle under one arm, while a second hovered at her feet. Her brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, emphasizing her honey-colored eyes and austere features.

      Francine Gordon Townsend wasn’t the raving beauty everyone had expected Rob to marry. But years ago, when John Townsend’s political clout had began to wane, Rob had married the only daughter of a powerful political figure in Texas, forging the two families together and solidifying John Townsend’s bid for reelection. Politics did indeed make for strange bedfellows, Matthew thought.

      “Darling.” Francine’s gaze settled on Rob. “You weren’t going to have this meeting without me, were you?”

      “I didn’t think you’d be interested,” Rob replied, and walked over to her, giving her a withering glance. “What have you been doing? You look like hell.”

      An expression of pain crossed Francine’s face. “I was grooming the dogs,” she answered tightly.

      “You pay people to do that,” Rob snapped. “Why do you insist on doing menial chores?”

      Francine ignored her husband’s words and crossed to Matthew. She introduced herself and shook his hand. As Matthew gazed into her eyes, he saw pain. For years she had competed for Rob’s attention, and Matthew could see from the defeated look in her eyes that she was wondering if the struggle had been worth it.

      She patted the poodle’s head and said, “So you’re the New York attorney. I heard you’re very good in a courtroom.”

      “Thank you,” Matthew said, not sure how to respond to her. He had a feeling Francine Townsend was close to the edge.

      “Are you going to make the Townsends’ little problem go away?” She leaned in close and whispered, “Makes you wonder, doesn’t it? Why would Mother Townsend be so generous to C. J. Doe? Could it be she was trying to bail her son’s ass out of a jam one more time?”

      Francine knew how to be a proper lady. Having attended the best schools, she could walk, talk and choose which fork to use at the dinner table with the best of them. But evidently she had learned some language in less reputable places, too.

      “Rob, your wife’s making a fool of herself,” Martha said.

      Francine swung around and fixed her eyes on the older woman. “Well, Aunt Martha, dear, if anyone can recognize a fool, you can. Look at the way you fawn over your sister’s husband.”

      “That’s enough, Francine,” Rob ordered.

      Francine turned to face him. “I want my children home for the summer, Rob.”

      “The kids are staying in boarding school,” he replied.

      “You’re making a sissy out of Robbie, and our daughter’s becoming so wild no one can do anything with her. They need discipline, not a free rein like you give them.”

      “Rob,” she pleaded, a note of desperation entering her voice.

      Rob ignored her plea. “Go get cleaned up, for God’s sake. You look like the hired help.”

      At Rob’s criticism Matthew saw a flash of unmistakable pain on her face again, but she quickly masked it. “I want my children home,” she stated angrily.

      “They’re staying in school.”

      “We’ll see about that,” she replied, and turned toward the door. “Nice to have met you, Mr. Sloan,” she called over her shoulder.

      As the door closed, Rob apologized. “My wife’s been having a rough time since the kids went away to school.”

      “Ha,” Martha retorted.

      Rob shot her a quelling glance and then focused his attention on Matthew. “Now, Matthew, I hope you have some good news for us.”

      Matthew shoved his hands into his pockets. How could Rob treat his wife so heartlessly? Couldn’t he see she was hurting? Dealing with the Townsends was going to be harder than he’d imagined—for more than one reason. He brought his thoughts back to Rob’s question. “No, I don’t.”

      Rob’s eyes narrowed. “Why not? Surely she didn’t turn down a million dollars.”

      “Afraid so.”

      Rob walked around the desk and sat down, a patently false smile on his face. “Damn, she’s smarter than I figured.”

      Matthew frowned. “What do you mean?”

      “She’s holding out for more money,” Rob replied. “Okay, we can play that game. Offer her two million.”

      Matthew held up his hands. “Wait a minute. She’s not after more money.”

      Rob spared him a dark glance. “Then what the hell does she want from us?”

      “She’s made a counteroffer.”

      “A counteroffer,” Rob said with a laugh. “What does she have to offer us?”

      Matthew took in the skeptical faces. Slowly he answered, “She will release her claim on both the land and the money on one condition.”

      A tense pause followed his words, and Matthew could almost hear the frantic heartbeats in the room. They had a right to be anxious, he thought. C. J. Doe was about to rock their world.

      Finally Rob asked, “And what would this condition be?”

      Matthew glanced from Rob to John Townsend. In his best courtroom voice he said, “That you and your father take paternity tests.”

      Martha gasped and Rob brought his fist down hard on the desk. “No way, Matthew. No way in hell is that ever going to happen.”

      “She has agreed that if it does, if you both get tested, she will relinquish any claim on the Townsend estate.”

      “She’s thought of everything, hasn’t she?” Rob muttered. “But we refuse to give credence to those stupid rumors she obviously believes.”

      “Well, it’s the only way you’re going to get the land back without going to court.”

      “Everybody has a price. Offer her three million.”

      Matthew gave a frustrated sigh. “Money means nothing to her, I’ve told you that. You can offer her ten million and she’d still turn it down. She only wants to know who she is.”

      “She is not a Townsend.” Fists clenched, Rob got angrily to his feet. “She—”

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