Nan Dixon - Undercover With The Heiress

“If you don’t want to work, then have one of those boys who fawn around your skirts marry you and take on your useless habits.”

Useless. Tears burned her eyes.

“That’s uncalled for,” Mother hissed. Her head snapped back and forth. She was probably worried the servants would overhear the argument.

“I’ve had it.” He emptied his whiskey and pointed at Courtney. “Gray is right. You need to stand on your own feet.”

Of course. Mr. Perfect. He’d caused this mess.

If Gray had been the impetus, then he should be the solution. In a soft voice she asked, “Gray is opening an office in Savannah?”

“Yes.” Father sighed.

“Maybe he’ll have a job for me.” She’d pretend to go to Savannah for work. At least until her father calmed down.

Her father’s gray eyes held hers for almost too long. “You plan on becoming a carpenter?”

She blinked. “He’ll need help decorating or answering phones or...” What else did people do in offices?

He snorted. “Good luck.”

“Why, thank you, Daddy.” Did she hit the last word too hard?

She could head to Savannah for a week or two. Time to escape Boston and take a vacation. “Will you up my credit card limit so I can drive to Gray’s and not have to sleep in my car?”

“Of course he will.” Mother glared at her husband.

Good. Mother could make this problem go away. Courtney would take a road trip.

CHAPTER TWO

“ARE YOU SURE this is all you need?” Kaden arranged a picture of the grandmother he’d never met on his grandfather’s nursing home dresser.

“I just want my own PJs, robe, clothes and a picture of my wife,” Nigel sighed. “But I’d rather be home.”

“Not yet.” Kaden’s chest tightened. He’d just checked his granddad into a highly-rated, long-term rehabilitation center. Even though his grandfather had come through the surgery like a champ, he needed care and physical therapy. Now to get Granddad to accept that he needed to stay here. “How does that look?”

“Fine,” he grumbled. “This darn hip made me miss Bess and Daniel’s wedding. The Fitzgeralds throw the best parties.”

They’d talked about this thirty minutes ago. Granddad’s pain meds messed with his memory. Kaden said, “There will be other weddings.”

“I’d like to see my grandson married.”

“Not on the horizon.” Kaden avoided his grandfather’s eyes. “Bureau keeps me too busy.”

“I can’t have you hovering by my bedside for weeks.” Nigel shook his head. “Head back to Atlanta.”

“We’ve had this conversation.” Kaden patted his shoulder. Bones protruded that hadn’t been there before. “I’m taking a well-earned vacation.”

“That’s ridiculous. You’ll go crazy sitting around.”

“I picked up something to while away the hours between your torture sessions.” Kaden dug in the bag, grinning. “I mean your physical therapy sessions.”

He set a chessboard on a rolling table. Aligning the pieces, he took a white and black pawn and mixed them behind his back. He held out his closed hands. “Your choice.”

Granddad tapped one. White.

“You open.” Kaden set down the pawns. “How many hours do you think we’ve played chess?”

“At first you couldn’t sit for more than fifteen minutes. What a squirmy seven-year-old you were.” His grandfather advanced his pawn. “But hundreds of hours, I guess. Maybe thousands?”

Kaden answered by advancing his own pawn and the game was on. The only sound was the felt of the pieces on the cardboard and the muffled echoes of voices in the hallway.

“When you were young, you never looked ahead more than one move.” Granddad moved his knight, threatening Kaden’s bishop.

Kaden could sacrifice the piece for his longer strategy. He moved his queen.

A big smile broke over his grandfather’s face. He pointed a long elegant finger at Kaden’s side of the board. “You’re getting trickier.”

“I learned from the best.” Kaden swallowed back emotions bubbling up into his throat. He’d learned everything from this man. His grandfather had shown him how to live with honor. He’d never learned that from his worthless parents. “Why did my mother turn out so...bad?”

Granddad sank into the pillows, pushing back his thick white hair. “You’ve never asked me that question.”

“Because I was so relieved to be saved from that...life.” Kaden got out of the chair and walked to the window that overlooked a small garden. “I was afraid you would send me back to them.”

“Never.” Granddad’s voice was low. “When your grandmother died, I was...lost. Your mother was thirteen. She needed me and I wasn’t there.”

“She knew right from wrong. She knew drugs were bad.”

“I should have helped her.” His grandfather inhaled. “I didn’t push through my grief. By the time she was eighteen and pregnant with you, she wouldn’t listen to anything I said.”

“But you tried.” He remembered that much. Whenever Granddad called, his mother would throw the phone, or pots, or whatever was at hand.

“Too late. If I’d done more, maybe Kaleb would still be alive. I should have saved both of you.” Sadness filled his grandfather’s intense blue eyes. Eyes that had barely faded over the years.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Kaden choked out. He was responsible for his brother’s death, not Nigel.

“You were seven.” Granddad shook his head. “Thank God your mother called me, even though all she wanted was bail. At least I rescued you from that Florida hovel.”

“You made me the man I am today.” Kaden would have said more, but his phone buzzed in his pocket.

Checking the caller ID, he said, “It’s my boss.”

“Go ahead.” Granddad closed his eyes, looking twenty years older. “I need to rest.”

Kaden’s heart took another hit. Walking to the opposite corner of the room, he answered, “Farrell.”

“Heather Bole’s kid was dropped off in Savannah.” Roger’s words were clipped.

“She’s here?” He clenched the phone. “In Savannah?”

“She was. Back in May.” Papers shifted on Roger’s side of the conversation. “The father is filing for full custody and wants to find Bole. He contacted the Savannah police a couple of weeks ago.”

“Is this guy involved with one of the gangs?”

“Nothing we can find,” Roger said. “The detective said this Forester guy was suspected of dealing in high school, but either he’s kept a low profile or he’s out of the life. Savannah cop thinks he’s clean, but I’d rather you make your own assessment.”

Kaden straightened. “This might be the break we need.”

“I know you’re helping your grandfather, but could you talk to the dad? I want the interview to come from my team. From you.”

And Kaden knew why. Roger’s ex-wife ran the FBI office in Savannah, Roger the Atlanta office. The Bureau was hard on marriages. Kaden had never had any problems with Margaret, Roger’s ex, but Roger carried a grudge.

He glanced at his sleeping grandfather. He could take an hour to talk to this man. “Sure.”

Roger rattled off the Savannah detective’s contact information. Kaden moved into the hall. When the man answered, he explained why he was calling.

“The father’s name is Nathan Forester.” Detective Gillespie gave Kaden a quick recap and Forester’s phone number.

Kaden peeked into his grandfather’s room, but he hadn’t moved. One more call.

“Forester,” the man answered. A saw squealed in the background.

Kaden introduced himself. “I’d like to talk to you about Heather Bole.”

“Do you know where she is?” The background noise faded.

“No. But we’re looking for her, too. I’d like to ask you a few questions. When would be convenient?”