Andrea Kane - The Line Between Here and Now

“Oh, he’s alive,” Ryan assured her. “He was Lyle Fenton’s lawyer. And the two of them were golfing buddies.”

“Were?” Casey jumped on the past tense.

“Yup-were. Right around the time of Catherine’s death, all that went to hell. Warren Mercer dropped Fenton as a client right after Catherine died. And from everything I could dig up, he and Fenton had no further dealings after that, business or personal.”

“I smell a deathbed confession,” Marc surmised aloud. “Catherine probably had to clear her conscience. Her son was a grown man, so she wasn’t worried about his reaction anymore. And she probably knew her husband wouldn’t cut off ties with Cliff, not after forty-plus years of being his father.”

“I agree.” Casey’s brows were still knit. “The question is, when did Fenton find out? Did she also tell him when she was dying? Or did he know beforehand? Clifford Mercer certainly didn’t tell him. By the time his mother died, the man was a political figure. The last thing he’d want is to give Fenton that kind of power over him. No, my guess is that Fenton already knew. But for how long?”

“My gut feeling?” Marc replied. “For a long time. Maybe even before Cliff was born. We’re talking about a man with tons of street smarts. He sure as hell knew how to count. And, given the timing of the affair, he had to suspect that he was potentially Clifford’s father. On the flip side, when he went to Catherine and she assured him the child was her husband’s, Fenton was probably überrelieved. He’s a lot of things, but a family man is not one of them.”

“I agree with that,” Patrick said. “I watched the two men together at lunch. There’s no father-son bond there. If anything, they’re distant when it comes to personal matters. Fenton asked about the twins as if he were discussing the neighbor’s kids. He got more intense about business than he did about family. Except where it came to Justin. Then, he was single-minded. He practically forced Mercer to get tested.”

“Justin represents his future,” Casey replied. “A new life, like a blank slate waiting to be written on. A last-chance hope for being the future of Fenton’s business empire. When the congressman was born, Fenton wasn’t thinking along those lines. He was young, unconcerned about the future.”

“Let’s not forget that DNA testing for paternity didn’t come into play until the 1980s,” Ryan supplied. “So even if Fenton had a paternity test, it wouldn’t have been conclusive. I doubt he pushed for it, though. I agree with Marc. I’m sure he backed off with great relief.”

“The truth is, he didn’t even want to know he had a child.” Claire’s gray eyes were filled with disgust. “But eventually he found out. So how could he walk away? Better question-what prompted him to come back? Was it because he wanted something out of Clifford Mercer?”

Casey turned toward her. “Are you getting some kind of sense?”

“Nothing.” Claire shook her head. “I’m as stymied as you are. Remember, I’ve never met either Fenton or Mercer.”

“Maybe it’s time you did. Maybe it’s time we all did.”

“You want to show up at the hospital tomorrow.” Marc’s statement was a conclusion, not a guess.

“I sure as hell do. Not just me. You and Claire, too. And Hero. I want him to pick up some initial scents from the congressman. Who knows how corrupt he is? Not just by being in Fenton’s pocket, but worse. What if he’s connected to Paul Everett’s disappearance? For all we know, Everett found out the truth about Mercer and Fenton and blackmailed them. Maybe that factored into his disappearance. And, if it did, we can add Mercer to the list of people who might know where Paul is.” Casey’s gaze shifted to Patrick. “I’d love to get your firsthand take on this, but we can’t risk it. Not when you were sitting next to the congressman and Fenton at lunch. If Mercer were to recognize you, it would blow everything.”

“That’s okay.” Patrick waved away Casey’s explanation. “You’re right. Besides, I want to do some old-fashioned digging of my own. I’ll see what I can learn about Fenton and Mercer, and any mutual ties they had to Paul Everett. That might give us a path to follow.”

“Good.” Casey glanced from Patrick to Claire and back. “Your turn. What happened when you saw Amanda at the hospital tonight?”

“Ladies first.” Patrick gestured for Claire to talk.

Claire blew out her breath. “Justin is the same. Hanging on. Fighting for his life.” A hard swallow. “I saw him through the ICU window. He’s hooked up to so many machines. The ventilator is helping him breathe, and the antibiotics are battling the infection. But he’s so tiny. I don’t know how much longer he can keep up this fight.” She swallowed again, this time to bring herself under control. “On a separate note, something’s up with Amanda. I felt it the minute she walked out to greet us. She was uncomfortable, like she wished we’d go away. She spoke quickly, assuring us that there was no need to stick around, that she was fine and just needed to be with her son. But it was a smokescreen. I could feel her anxiety and her impatience. It wasn’t related only to Justin’s health. There was something else.”

Casey frowned. “It couldn’t have been a reaction to our meeting with her uncle. We didn’t even arrive at his estate until eight o’clock.”

“And we were long gone from the hospital by then.” Claire shook her head. “No, it had nothing to do with her uncle. I think Amanda was expecting someone. Whoever he was, we’ve never met him.”

“Him?” Ryan was all over that one.

Claire rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t some secret lover, Ryan. It was business. Personal business, which I think had something to do with Justin.”

“Then why wouldn’t she talk to you about it?” Casey asked. “What is there that she’d prefer we not know?”

“I can’t answer that.” Claire turned her palms up in a gesture of noncomprehension. “I asked her a few questions, but she only got more anxious and more distant, which clouded the energy between us even more. So I backed off. I decided it would be more productive to try talking to her again in the morning, when she was less on edge and I could get a clearer read.”

“Okay,” Casey agreed. “We’ll find out what time the congressman is being tested, and we’ll work a visit with Amanda around that.”

“He’s due at the hospital at 11:00 a.m.,” Ryan supplied. “Perfect timing for the evening news cycle. He and his wife will give blood, answer the media’s questions and then leave. He’ll be back in Washington before dinner.”

“Okay, then we’ll head out to Southampton first, and be at Sloane Kettering in the late afternoon. I want Marc to do some damage control with Amanda anyway, just in case Fenton spins our conversation in a way that throws her for a loop.” Casey shifted her gaze to Patrick. “What about you? You obviously have something for me, too.”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Claire’s right. We were definitely being followed. Both ways. And whoever did it is a pro. He stayed far enough behind us so I couldn’t catch his license plate. And when we pulled into the parking lot, he drove right by, tinted windows raised, so I couldn’t get a good look at him. But he was right behind us on the trip there, and two cars behind us on the way back. I could try to get security footage from the hospital, but I guarantee it won’t show anything.”

“We’re making people very nervous,” Claire murmured. “And those people aren’t just pros. They’re dangerous.”

“Then I say, let’s keep pushing their buttons.” Marc had that hard, steely edge to his voice. “Eventually, they’ll slip up and let us know who they are.”