Against the Law (4 page)

He needed to complete the job he had taken because his friend Madman Monroe had asked him, needed to find her sister's little girl.

He needed Lark out of his life—before he did what he wanted and behaved in a way he would regret.

I
nstead of going back to the Biltmore, Lark drove past the turn to the hotel and continued down the road to her sister's condo. She had just pulled into the driveway when her cell phone started to ring. She dug through her purse, pulled out her BlackBerry and pressed it against her ear.

“Lark, it's Brenda.”

“Oh, hi, Bren.” She fumbled with her keys, unlocked the front door and let herself in.

“Listen, I called your office but the answering machine said you were closed for the next two weeks. I tracked down Carrie Beth and she told me you were in Phoenix. Are you really here? Why didn't you call me?”

Brenda Whitney was one of her very best friends. They had known each other since high school, stayed in touch through college, through Brenda's marriage and divorce, then the awful weeks of Heather's illness. Brenda
was a single mother raising two children, and even the differences in their lifestyles hadn't kept them apart.

Lark dropped her purse on the table and released a breath. “I've been meaning to call. I just…I don't know. I needed a little time to get my head on straight.”

“Did you come to Phoenix to find the baby?”

Brenda knew about Heather's dying request. She knew Lark would be back to start the search as soon as she could make the necessary arrangements.

“I've hired a private investigator. We're working on it together.”

“Where are you?”

“I'm at Heather's. I'm…I'm working on packing her things.”

“That's great, Lark. I know how much you've dreaded doing it. I'm proud of you.”

“It isn't as bad as I thought. I kind of feel like she's here, you know?”

“Yeah, I do. I'll come over and help. The kids are with their dad. I'll be there in twenty minutes.”

It was odd. Yesterday she hadn't wanted company. She needed time with her sister and the memories they shared. Today, the thought of Brenda coming over brought a feeling of relief. “That'd be great. I'll see you soon.”

Lark began her task. Down on her knees, she opened one of the several boxes of photos and started sorting through the contents, spreading the pictures out on the carpet.

Twenty minutes later, a light knock sounded. Lark looked up as the door swung open and Brenda walked
in. Red-haired and curvy, she set her LARK bag—a Christmas gift—on the coffee table and came over to where Lark knelt on the carpet, the cardboard box half-empty in front of her.

Brenda looked down at the volume of photos on the floor and a fond smile curved her lips. “She was a real picture hound, wasn't she?” In jeans and a T-shirt, she sat cross-legged on the carpet next to Lark.

“I'm not much for taking pictures. Seems like you take them but never look at them again.”

“On the other hand,” Brenda said softly, “we've got all these lovely photos to help us remember her.”

Lark's eyes filled. “Yes, we do.” She blinked, wiped away the tear that escaped down her cheek. She'd done enough crying over the weeks and months she had spent with Heather. It was time to move past the grief.

“So how is the search progressing?” Brenda asked, settling into the task of sorting and stacking, placing Delaney family photos in one pile, friends of Heather's in another.

Lark rubbed a kink in her neck. “We're only getting started.”

“And?”

“So far, it's not going all that well. Seems the agency went out of business and the Olcotts—the people who ran it—have disappeared. On top of that, they may not have been as reputable as my grandparents believed.”

“That's not good news.”

“No, it isn't.”

“But you've got this guy, this investigator to help you, right?”

She nodded. “Devlin Raines. He seems to know what he's doing and Clive trusts him completely.”

“And you trust Clive.”

“Clive was a Ranger and so was Dev. And Clive's wife, Molly, is terrific. She lived in the condo next door until she and Clive got married.” Lark grinned. “There are things we know about each other we've vowed to take to our graves.”

Brenda laughed and so did Lark. Then she looked down at the photos of her sister spread out in front of her and her smile slowly faded. “She didn't deserve to die so young.”

“Nobody does.”

“I'm going to find her little girl, make sure she's in a good home.”

“You'll do it. You'll find her.”

“Dev says we will. He's got the kind of confidence that makes it easy to believe.”

Brenda set a picture of Lark and Heather off by itself. “What's he like, this investigator?”

Lark rolled her eyes. “Gorgeous. Ripped like you wouldn't believe.” She grinned. “But I'm determined not to notice.”

Brenda laughed. “Single or married?”

“Single and loving every minute of it. At least that would be my guess.”

“In that case, you'd better be careful.”

“Oh, I am. Even if I decided to assuage my growing lust for his fabulous body, I'm not interested in anything more than a fling. I don't know if he even wants that.”

“Better that way.”

“I know. Still, it's been a while.”

Brenda placed another photo on top of the family pile. “Too darned long, if you ask me.”

Lark just smiled. Brenda knew her far too well, knew how particular she was. “So you see my dilemma.”

Her friend chuckled. “If he isn't interested, he's either gay or stupid.”

“I don't get the least gay vibes and so far he doesn't seem stupid.”

“Then you better just hold on, girlfriend, because you are definitely in for a ride.”

Lark laughed softly, wondering if it might be true. She looked down at the photos, noticed one of her and Heather when they were kids playing in the backyard sprinkler. She ran a finger over the fading color print, wishing her sister were there to join in their playful banter about men.

But the sadness of missing her was growing more distant, the pain of loss easing a little.

Heather was finally at peace.

Now in order to find peace herself, Lark had to keep her word and find her sister's child.

 

Lark made it a point to be on time that next morning, which meant she was only ten minutes late. Dev was a Ranger and the ultimate macho man. He would probably expect a woman to be late. Which she usually was.

She knocked on his door at ten after eight and the same giant hulk of a man who had been there that first day pulled it open.

“Come on in,” he said. “Dev's in his office.”

She nodded, followed his lumbering gait down the hall.

Seated behind his computer, Dev looked up as the man led her inside. “Lark, that's Townsend Emory. He pretty much takes care of things around here. Town, meet Lark Delaney. We'll be working together for a while.”

“Nice to meet you, Lark,” the huge man said.

“You, as well, Town.”

His expression remained serious as he quietly slipped out of the room.

“He wasn't here when I came yesterday.”

“He was here. There's a guest house on the other side of the pool. Town works in there sometimes. He and my housekeeper, Aida Clark, were going over the weekly shopping list and whatever else they need to do to keep this place running.”

“Ex-football player?” she asked, thinking of the man's massive shoulders and the gnarled fingers that looked as if they had been broken.

Dev nodded. “Arizona Cardinals. Neck injury. Had to quit the game. Worked for Raines Security for a while before I put him to work here at the house. Town is tough as boot leather, but he's also smart. I'm lucky to have him.”

“And he's your friend. I could tell by the protective gleam in his eyes when I walked into the house.”

Dev shrugged. “We look out for each other.”

“And apparently that includes women.”

“Town's wife left him when his pro-football salary took a nosedive. He isn't very trusting of women.”

She arched a dark eyebrow. “How about you?”

Dev shrugged. “I like women just fine.”

“You mean they have their uses even if you don't trust them.”

He looked up at her. “I guess you could say that.” There was something in his eyes, a secret that had to do with a woman and the distrust he admitted to feeling.

She sauntered over to his desk, looked down at his computer screen. “So what have we got going on this morning?”

Dev leaned back in his chair. “Chaz called. No license for Loving Home Adoptions showed up in any other state.”

“Not really a surprise since they didn't bother to have one here.”

“No, not a surprise.”

She saw the worry lines across his forehead, sat down in the chair next to his desk. “Go on, tell me the rest.”

Dev released a slow breath. “Turns out there is no Evan or Martha Olcott. I gave Chaz the social-security numbers the landlord gave us. Chaz ran the numbers. They were bogus.”

“They weren't using their real names?”

“No, but Chaz tracked them down. Their real names are Allen and Margaret Oldman. Before they came to Arizona, Allen Oldman did three years in the Nevada State penitentiary for fraud. Margaret Oldman, his accomplice, was put on two years' probation. Three months after Allen Oldman was released, he and Margaret disappeared.”

Her heart was beating too hard. “You're sure…sure
the Oldmans are the Olcotts, the people who ran the agency?”

“It's them.”

“Oh, God.”

“Doesn't mean the baby didn't get a good home.”

“No, but it wouldn't have been a high priority for people like that.” She just looked at him. “If they didn't care about the children they placed, what were they after? It had to be money.”

His gaze held steady. “Odds are.”

“How much money?”

“Could be as much as fifty to a hundred thousand, maybe more if the circumstances were right. I've heard of baby-selling scams that went as high as that.”

Lark moistened her lips. “Why would…why would the adoptive couple be willing to pay that much?”

He shrugged but she could tell he didn't want to say. “Could be any number of reasons.”

“But likely it's because they couldn't qualify through regular channels. They had some problem that made it impossible.”

“That's right.”

Lark shot up from her chair. “Oh, no.”

Dev stood up beside her, reached over and gently caught her shoulders. Those lean, powerful hands settled her down and calmed her nerves. “They might be just fine. The adoption laws can be pretty tough. Maybe the couple just wanted a baby very badly and there was some glitch in their past.”

She swallowed, nodded. “You're right. There's no need to panic yet.”

“Exactly.” He let her go and stepped away. “We'll find them.” He gave her a smile. “That's why you hired me, isn't it?”

Some of the tightness in her stomach eased. “As a matter of fact, it is. Which reminds me…I forgot to give you that check.”

“Just hold on to it. We'll settle up when this is over.” Dev's gaze ran over her as if he had a different sort of payment in mind. The heat was there she thought she had seen before. Maybe he wasn't as indifferent as he seemed.

But as he walked away from her without a backward glance, maybe he was.

 

“You aren't going to like this,” Dev said to Lark later that morning as he hung up the phone on his desk.

“Tell me it isn't more bad news.”

“I wish I could. That was Chaz. The adoption papers your grandparents signed were never legally recorded. There's no record the adoption ever took place.”

Her hand started shaking, jiggling the coffee in her newly refilled mug. She leaned back in her chair. “But the documents were signed. They were even notarized. I heard you mention that on the phone.”

“That's right. The notary's name is on the seal, Caroline Demarco. I'm hoping she might be able to help us.”

“Her name is there but there's no address. How do we find her?”

“Chaz took care of it. She's working at McCleary Real Estate in downtown Phoenix.” He stood up from behind
his desk. “Grab your purse. Let's go see what Ms. Demarco has to say.”

They headed down the hall to the garage and he guided her over to his Porsche. He backed the car out of the garage and they were on their way.

“I wouldn't have thought of talking to the notary,” Lark said as he drove toward the address Chaz had given him. “But then I guess that's why you make the big bucks.”

Dev just smiled. Very little of the money he earned came from his work as an investigator. Mostly he just did it to keep himself entertained.

Soon they pulled up in front of the two-story, brick-trimmed building that housed the real estate office.

“Could turn out to be a good lead or nothing,” he said. “That's the nature of the beast.”

They crossed the sidewalk and Dev shoved open the heavy glass door. The office was spartan, but clean, with ten oak desks divided by a center aisle. Only two were currently occupied. At the front of the office, behind the receptionist desk, an older, gray-haired woman sat with the phone pressed against her ear.

She hung up as they approached. “May I help you?”

“We'd like to talk to Caroline Demarco,” Dev said. “I believe she works here.”

“Why, yes, she does. Are you looking for a home or do need something notarized?”

Lark flicked him a glance. “We…umm need something notarized.”

The woman smiled as she rose from behind the desk. “Cookie's a Realtor as well as a notary. If you decide
you're interested in buying a home, she's a very competent agent.”

“That's good to know,” Dev said.

The receptionist led them farther into the office and pointed to a woman in her early thirties seated behind a desk near the back. Cookie Demarco had frazzled, cinnamon-colored hair and so many freckles her complexion looked tan.