Royal Heir

They stood staring at each other for several moments as Will sipped the coffee without tasting it. It came to him that he was beginning to think of Julia as a woman, not just as Nicole’s little cousin or Leo’s surrogate mother. He was beginning to notice the shape of her body, the thrust of her breasts against her T-shirt, the softness of her lips in repose, the expressions that flashed across her face at breakneck speed.

He wanted to know more about her.

But first he wanted sleep. And a shower and clean clothes. And most of all, Leo safe in his arms.

She said, “I think you’d better start wondering who else would steal your son, Will. And I’d better start wondering who wants me dead.”

Will couldn’t answer either question, though he wondered if his past, swathed in a suffocating silence his aunt had always refused to break, could have played a part in Leo’s abduction. He couldn’t picture anyone wanting to kill Julia unless it was connected to Leo’s disappearance. Someone was afraid she could identify them. That’s what made sense.

A banging on the front door interrupted the silence that had descended after Julia’s last observations. A male voice called, “Julia? Julia, are you in there? Open up!”

“It’s a little late for callers,” Will said, glancing at the flower wall clock. It was after midnight now. He set aside his coffee mug.

“I forgot all about George,” she said, hurrying to answer the door. By the time Will rounded the corner, he found Julia engulfed in a tall man’s arms. She burst into tears.

Who the hell was George?

“I MEANT TO CALL you,” Julia said when she came up for air. Embarrassed by her tears and the emotional meltdown that had prompted them, she kept her gaze fastened on a wall somewhere between the two men. By then, George had steered her into the living room and Will had closed and locked the front door. “I kind of forgot,” she added.

“Damn it, Julia, what’s going on here?” George demanded. Nearing forty, George Abbot was not only Julia’s boss at Abbot Air Transport, but also her friend. They’d tried dating a while ago. They’d tried hard. But George had pointed out that anything special between a man and a woman shouldn’t take so much effort and they’d gone back to being friends. It had been a profound relief to Julia, who had to admit to herself that what George represented to her was a father figure, not a lover.

“Did the police—”

“Grill me like I was a common criminal? Yes, they did,” George said. “Who would impersonate me and pretend to be your fiancé? Where’d they get that? I think the cops are still watching me. There’s a patrol car in your neighborhood. I passed it coming in—”

“They’re just watching the house. It has nothing to do with you. I’m sorry I didn’t warn you—”

“Seems like you’ve been busy,” George said with a glance at Will.

“It’s been quite a night,” she agreed. Would Will introduce himself to George? And if he did, would they then have to try to explain how he got here, why he wasn’t dead? Would George feel honor-bound to tell the police—

“Good thing I had an alibi,” George added. “Been with Barbara all day. Her and her girls. Amber is on a basketball team. Tournament today. Just got home a little while ago and there were the cops, waiting for me.”

Julia refrained from apologizing again. George was perturbed. She didn’t blame him. Barbara was the new love of his life and he was crazy about her preteen daughters as well. It must have ruined his day to come home after a fun time of games and laughter to antagonistic questioning.

“Guess the important thing now is to find your cousin’s baby,” he said, some of his bluster dissipating. He was still eyeing Will with suspicion. He said, “You a cop?”

Julia didn’t see how anyone as savvy as George about police matters could mistake Will in his present condition for a cop.

You thought he was airport security, a little voice in her head whispered. Sometimes a person sees what they expect to see—

Will said, “Something like that. I’m here to help Julia.”

George’s nod was brisk. It looked as though the matter of Will’s identity was settled in his mind.

“I think I should try making that call,” Will added.

“The phone is on the counter.”

She listened to George describe his police interrogation with half an ear. With the other half, she listened as Will placed his call. When it was obvious he was speaking to someone, she stilled George with a hand and hurried to Will’s side.

“Honest, Aunt Fiona, it is me,” he was saying as his gaze met Julia’s. He turned the corner in the kitchen, placing himself out of view of the living room, sandwiching himself between the refrigerator and the sink. Julia followed. Lowering his voice, he said into the phone, “It was a terrible thing for me to do to you and I’m sorry. I’ll explain very soon, I promise. But right now I need to know if you have Leo.”

He listened for just a moment, his forehead wrinkling. “Why are you being so evasive?” he asked.

After a pause, he said, “I’d understand if you thought you should rescue him from Nicole’s relatives.” With this he glanced at Julia and shrugged. “What I mean is that you thought I was dead. I know you would want to protect the little guy.”

He listened for a few more seconds before switching to a calming voice. “I get the feeling you can’t talk right now. Are you okay?”

After a brief pause, he said, “I understand.” She must have reassured him though his expression didn’t look reassured. He added, “I’ll come see you soon—”

Now his eyes narrowed and his mouth formed a straight line. He said, “Polo,” waiting with what seemed suspended breath before snapping, “Fiona? Aunt Fiona?”

He folded Julia’s phone and looked at her. “Something is wrong,” he said.

“What do you mean, wrong?”

For the first time, Julia was aware that George had joined them in the kitchen and stood with his hands behind his back, listening.

Will seemed too distracted to notice or care. He said, “It’s a code she taught me eons ago. Nothing unique. She uses the name Marco in a sentence. I answer with Polo to let her know I’m on to her. We used to joke that if either one of us ever made a friend named Marco we’d have to come up with a new code.”

“What does the code mean?” George asked.

Will’s head snapped up and he met George’s gaze. “It means to stay away, that she’ll contact me when it’s safe.” Looking at Julia, he added, “Back when I was a kid, I knew it meant not to go home. To stay where I was until she came for me. Soon afterwards, I’d have a new name, a new house, a new school.”

“This is part of that odd upbringing you mentioned,” Julia said.

“Yes.”

Julia’s cell phone erupted. Will was still holding it. He flipped it open and glanced at the screen. “My aunt’s calling back,” he said, followed by a tap of a button and a soft, “Yes?” into the phone.

He listened for a moment before snapping, “Who’s this?” He lowered the phone, once again clicking it shut.

“Whoever it was hung up without identifying themselves.”

“It wasn’t your aunt?”

“Why would she have called without speaking? It was her number, but it was someone else on the phone. Someone was with her, I’m sure of it. She must have caller ID now. When she refused to tell them who it was, they called to check for themselves. I have to get back to Washington.”

He pushed the phone into Julia’s hands.

“But your aunt’s code to stay where you are—”

“I’m not a child anymore,” he said. “I don’t stay when I’m told to. I have an awful feeling she’s in jeopardy and that it’s tied to Leo.”

“What about calling the police where she is? Someone might be able to go check—”

“No. You don’t know my aunt. No cops. I have to go.”