Conflict of Interest (The McClouds of Mississippi) (21 page)

Dylan’s smile faded quickly when the front doorbell rang. “Great. That’s probably Gideon. I’m telling you, Adrienne, he isn’t going to like this.”

“Gideon wouldn’t ring his own doorbell. He parks in the garage and comes in through the kitchen. I’ll go see who it is.”

Peering through the door window, she didn’t recognize the attractive and ridiculously happy couple on the doorstep, but she thought she could make a guess at their identity. She opened the door, but before she could speak, she was interrupted by a high-pitched squeal from behind her.

“Nate!” Isabelle shot forward, bouncing with excitement. “You’re home!”

“Hi, poppet.” The golden-haired, blue-eyed man snatched her up in his arms, raining half a dozen kisses on her cheeks, which made her squirm and giggle. “How’s my girl?”

Isabelle responded with a rush of tangled words.

The brown-haired woman who had followed Nathan inside gave Adrienne a rueful smile. “Please forgive our rudeness in barging in this way. I’m Nathan’s wife, Caitlin, as you’ve probably figured out. You must be Gideon’s agent.”

“Adrienne Corley.” She shook the other woman’s hand warmly, pleased to have this chance to meet Isabelle’s guardians. “But I thought you weren’t returning for another week.”

“To be honest we were both anxious to come home. With Lenore’s sister injured and poor Gideon trying to finish his book, we decided we were needed here. And, as spectacular as our honeymoon was, we missed Isabelle.”

Glancing at Nathan and Isabelle, Adrienne realized that Gideon hadn’t exaggerated about the strength of the bond between this new family. It appeared that Isabelle would be raised with all the love and attention a child could ask for.

“Gideon isn’t here right now. He had to go to an office supplies store.”

Settling Isabelle on his hip, Nathan smiled at Adrienne. “Then we won’t expect him anytime soon. Gideon feels about office supplies stores the way most men do about hardware stores. He can spend hours in them looking at organizers and notebooks and pens and computer accessories.”

Though the image of Gideon as a serious shopper was rather odd to her, Adrienne said only, “Would either of you like a cup of coffee? I have a fresh pot in the kitchen.”

Nathan’s blue eyes lit up eagerly. “Coffee sounds great. And do you suppose Gideon’s got the makings for a sandwich in there? We’ve been traveling all day and I’m about wiped out.”

“Nathan,” his bride protested, “you can’t just barge into your brother’s house and raid his refrigerator.”

He flashed her a grin. “Watch me.”

“I’m sure Gideon wouldn’t mind,” Adrienne said, though it occurred to her that she’d been awfully free with Gideon’s hospitality that day.

She happened to be watching Nathan’s face when he saw Dylan sitting at Gideon’s table drinking coffee. Until that moment she had seen little resemblance between the McCloud brothers, but Nathan’s expression reminded her very much of Gideon.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Nate.” Clucking her tongue reprovingly, Isabelle tapped her brother’s shoulder. “That’s not very nice.”

His smile looking quite different from the one he’d worn earlier, Dylan stood. “That’s okay, Princess Isabelle. I’m used to it from your brothers.”

“That doesn’t make it any more acceptable.” Caitlin frowned at Nathan, then held out her hand to Dylan. “It’s nice to see you, Officer Smith.”

“You, too, ma’am.” He shook her hand, his expression marginally warmer than it had been when he’d faced her husband. “And congratulations on your marriage.”

She laughed. “Even if I
did
marry a McCloud? Never mind, I know what your answer to that would be.”

He only smiled.

Adrienne felt the need to defend Dylan’s presence. “Dylan has been quite gracious to me during my visit here. He was very helpful to me and Isabelle when we were involved in the minor car accident on Tuesday, and he—”

“A car accident?” Frowning, Nathan looked at Isabelle again as if searching for overlooked injuries. “Why didn’t I hear about that?”

“I thought Gideon had mentioned it to you to explain why I’ve been staying here. I guess he didn’t want to alarm you, especially since no one was hurt. Officer Smith arrived at the scene almost immediately, and he took excellent care of Isabelle and me when I carelessly fell and sprained my ankle.”

Caitlin nodded. “I did notice that you were limping.”

“What happened?” Nathan asked, still looking concerned.

“A red sports car ran a red light in front of me, causing me to slam on my brakes and go into a spin on wet pavement. The back of my car hit a lamppost, but Isabelle and I were both securely strapped in, so we weren’t harmed.”

“A red sports car.” Nathan gave Dylan a look. “Did you get him?”

“I didn’t have positive ID. Adrienne couldn’t describe the car.”

“It happened too fast,” Adrienne added, somewhat apologetically.

Nathan was still looking at Dylan. “Did you talk to Sawyer?”

“Yeah. He denied even being in his car that day.”

Nathan made a sound of disgust. “Of course he did.”

His eyebrows rising, Dylan asked, “Isn’t this your own client you’re talking about?”

“Not anymore. I suggested after his last DUI that he seek another attorney. For his sake it should probably be someone who doesn’t want to see him thrown into jail.”

Dylan chuckled.

Taking encouragement from that very brief accord, Adrienne said, “I’ll start preparing the sandwiches. Caitlin, would you mind making a fresh pot of coffee?”

“I’d be happy to,” she said, then gave Dylan a smile. “You might as well join us. As often as we encounter each other professionally—even on opposite sides, occasionally—it’s ridiculous to pretend we’re total strangers.”

Both Nathan and Dylan looked dubious.

“Attorneys and cops are rarely bosom buddies,” Nathan explained.

“Not to mention my personal history with the McClouds,” Dylan added.

“Then we’ll agree not to talk about work or past grievances,” Adrienne said firmly. “Trust me, I’ve had very pleasant meals at tables with authors, agents, editors and publishing executives. If a disparate group like that can put aside their professional conflicts for a few hours, I’m sure you two can. You grew up in the same small town, for heaven’s sake. You must have some mutual friends or root for the same sports teams—
something
in common.”

“What we have in common is a long history of mutual dislike,” Nathan muttered.

“Well,
I
like you both,” Isabelle asserted firmly. “And I think you should be friends.”

After a moment of silence, Caitlin laughed.

“A decree from Princess Isabelle,” Dylan said, his smile wry. “I suppose we can make an effort to be sociable—for an hour or so.”

“Well, glory be.” Caitlin grinned as she moved toward the coffeemaker. “Maybe there’s hope for world peace, after all.”

“Not if Gideon walks in anytime soon,” Nathan predicted glumly, setting Isabelle on her feet. “World War III’s gonna break out right here in this kitchen if he walks in and finds us helping ourselves to his food and sharing it with Smith.”

“I’ll make Gideon behave,” Isabelle promised confidently, making the adults laugh again.

While Adrienne wouldn’t have said Nathan and Dylan were friendly, exactly, as they dined on ham and cheese sandwiches with chips and pickle spears, they were at least civil. Yet both made a point of addressing their comments to either her, Caitlin or Isabelle, and rarely to each other.

Though it was, of course, absolutely none of her business, she was still very curious about what had gone wrong between Dylan Smith and Deborah McCloud—and why it had left such hard feelings in her brothers. Adrienne was also intensely curiously about Dylan’s offhand comment about Isabelle’s mother being Gideon’s girlfriend.

Was that the primary cause of his lingering antipathy toward his late father? Had he loved her? Did he see her face every time he looked at Isabelle?

Darn it, why hadn’t he said anything to her? As much as she told herself he had been under no obligation whatsoever to tell her anything about his past, she was still irrationally angry with him for not doing so.

Perhaps because the omission reminded her so graphically that he only saw her as a temporary diversion in his life.

Gideon heard the sounds as soon as he stepped out of his truck and into his garage. Voices, laughter, the muted clatter of dishware—was there a damned party going on in his kitchen?

His hands filled with bags from the office warehouse, he stalked toward the kitchen door. He froze in the doorway when he saw the group gathered around his table. He was surprised to see Nathan and Caitlin, of course, since he hadn’t expected them for another week. But he was absolutely flabbergasted to see Dylan Smith sitting there with them.

Last he’d heard, which hadn’t been that long ago, Nathan hadn’t been any fonder of Smith than Gideon was. Now he was sitting here having afternoon tea with the guy?

Apparently, the group had been laughing at something cute that Isabelle had said and hadn’t heard him open the door. Caitlin was the one who spotted him first. “Red alert,” she said comically.

Everyone looked around at him, their smiles fading.

Isabelle made a stern face and wagged a finger at him. “Now, Gideon. Be nice.”

Dylan pushed himself to his feet. “I think I’d better be going. I, uh, have to do some laundry.”

“Freeze, Smith.” Gideon set his purchases on a counter. “What the—” Catching a glimpse of Isabelle, he changed his words. “What’s going on?”

Adrienne seemed to be the designated explainer. “Nathan and Caitlin decided to spend the rest of their honeymoon with Isabelle. Dylan dropped by to bring me something I had requested from him. We’ve been having a nice visit over coffee and sandwiches. Would you like something to eat?”

How graciously she had offered him his own food, he thought with a scowl. “No.”

“Coffee?”

“No.”

Dylan had taken another couple of steps toward the doorway. “I really think it would be best if I just go.”

Gideon shot him a look. “Damn straight. And I’d better not find you in my house again.”

Though the other man had obviously been trying to avoid a confrontation, he stiffened in response to Gideon’s surly challenge, his male ego piqued. “Trust me, I have no desire to pay any social calls on you.”

Isabelle poked out her lower lip. “You can come visit me at Nate’s house, Officer Smith,” she said, giving Gideon a reproachful look. “Nate will be nice if I ask him to.”

Now
everyone
was looking at Gideon as though he were the killjoy who had arrived to ruin their pleasant afternoon. Even Nathan looked more concerned with Isabelle’s displeasure than sympathetic with Gideon’s plight at finding an old enemy at his table. He’d never expected his own family to take Dylan Smith’s side over his.

Dylan patted her cheek. “Thank you, princess Isabelle. I’m sure I’ll see you around town. I’ll make a point to stop and visit with you when I do, okay?”

She seemed only partially appeased.

Glancing at Adrienne with an I-warned-you expression that even Gideon could read, Dylan asked, “When will you be heading back to New York?”

“Tomorrow. I’ll call you. You did leave me your number, didn’t you?”

“It’s in the package. Have a safe trip back.”

He left a heavy silence behind him when he departed without another glance at Gideon.

“Well,” Nathan said after a beat. “That was fun.”

Still itching to fight—especially after that cozy exchange between Dylan and Adrienne—Gideon rounded on his brother. “I shouldn’t have had to throw him out. You should have already taken care of that.”

Her dark eyes glinting dangerously, Adrienne stepped toward him. “Isabelle, sweetie, why don’t you show Caitlin the pictures you’ve drawn at school this week? They’re in your room.”

Caitlin eagerly seized the chance to escape the impending confrontation. “I would love to see your schoolwork, Isabelle. And I want to hear all about your week.”

Still sending Gideon a look that gave him the urge to shuffle his feet on the floor like a schoolboy in trouble with his parents, Isabelle took Caitlin’s hand and left the room.

“Now,” Adrienne said when she, Nathan and Gideon were alone in the kitchen. “Why don’t you vent your bad temper at the person who is responsible, rather than innocent bystanders?
I
invited Dylan into this house because he has become a friend of mine. I knew you wouldn’t particularly like it, but I didn’t think you would be quite so rude and ungracious about it.”

“It wasn’t all Adrienne’s fault,” Nathan supplied gallantly. “I’m the one who suggested raiding your refrigerator. Caitlin invited Dylan to join us for a sandwich. So you might as well be mad at all of us.”

“Trust me, I am.”

Nathan nodded. “Fair enough.”

“I just can’t understand why you’d suddenly be all cozy with Smith,” Gideon complained, shoving a hand through his hair. “I know we’ve nicknamed you Nathan the Peacemaker, but you’ve always disliked that guy as much as I have.”

“What makes you think I’ve suddenly changed my mind about him? I haven’t, and he made no pretense to be any more fond of me. We agreed to be civil for a couple of hours for Adrienne’s sake and for Isabelle’s.”

Something he, of course, had failed to do. Torn between self-righteous indignation and an uncharacteristic ripple of guilt, Gideon glanced at his still-angry agent. “I didn’t like finding him in my house.”

“You’ve made that perfectly clear,” she snapped, and he almost winced in response to her sharp-edged tone. “I apologize for my breach of etiquette, and I can assure you it won’t happen again. For one thing, I’ll be leaving tomorrow, and I doubt I’ll ever be in a position to invite anyone inside your house again.”

Nathan cleared his throat. “I think I’ll go look at Isabelle’s drawings.”

Ignoring his departing brother, Gideon concentrated on Adrienne, instead. “When did you decide to go back tomorrow?”

Her voice was cool when she replied. “That’s pretty much been a given all along, hasn’t it? You asked me to stay for the weekend so I would have a chance to attend the festival. Now that your brother and sister-in-law have returned to collect Isabelle, there’s no reason for me to stay.”