The Secret Child

“You need a man, Mom.”

Marni couldn‘t believe her ears. “Jenna!”

“Denise‘s mom thinks you do. She says you work too hard and if you don‘t get out more, you‘ll–”

“Jenna, that‘s enough.”

Jenna sighed heavily, her exasperation registering clearly.

“You wanna order in or go out for pizza?” asked Marni, anxious to steer the topic away from her lack of male companionship. She‘d had offers, plenty of them, but the truth was, she just wasn‘t interested. She‘d convinced herself her career and Jenna were all that mattered. Especially since she had paid such a high price for both.

Marni could practically feel her daughter‘s shrug. “Doesn‘t matter.”

“Why don‘t we decide when I get home? Around seven, okay?” She signed her name to a letter without proofreading it. She didn‘t need to; Peg‘s efficiency spoke for itself.

“Sure, Mom. Oh, the phone‘s beeping, I‘ve got another call coming in. It‘s probably Denise again.”

“Sweetie?” Marni said before her daughter could hang up on her. “I love you.”

“Yeah, me, too, Mom. I‘ll see ya tonight.”

An indefinable fear settled over Marni. If she told Jenna her father was in town, she would insist on seeing him. When Jenna had asked the identity of her father, Marni had told her daughter as much as her young mind could understand at the time. She had been careful not to color her daughter‘s feelings in any way.

What had happened between Cole and Marni had been special, at least on her part. How she‘d loved Cole, and she‘d thought he‘d returned that love. But Marni hadn‘t been gone two months when Cole married Elizabeth Wakefield, a woman of his own social class. Even though Marni had ended their relationship without explanation, she still experienced an unreasonable stab of jealousy every time she thought of Cole with Elizabeth.

Marni replaced the receiver, finished signing the rest of the correspondence, then put the remaining folders in her briefcase. “I‘m really gonna get a new one tomorrow,” she promised herself.

She flicked off the light and closed the door to her office, then dropped the folder with the signed correspondence on Peg‘s desk. She picked up her messages, stuffed them into her jacket pocket and headed toward the door. The crowd had thinned somewhat, and Marni escaped without too much trouble.

Entering the parking garage with her keys in hand, Marni headed for her car. She opened the door and slipped inside.

Muldoon‘s.

Cole.

The drive would take her about twenty minutes in downtown traffic. Glancing at her watch, Marni realized she was already late. Maybe if she was lucky, he‘d have already left and she‘d never have to see him again. She tossed the briefcase onto the passenger seat, and the latch flipped open again. The old leather case had been a gift from her mother, and if she hadn‘t been so attached to it, she never would have run into Cole.

Marni sighed, glaring at the briefcase. She had an uneasy feeling that fate had just intervened.

* * *

FATE HAD DEFINITELY smiled on Cole Ballinger today. He arrived at Muldoon‘s thirty minutes before he was supposed to meet Marni and secured a table in the back of the downtown pub. Happy hour would be in full swing before long, and he wanted to ensure they had a relatively quiet place to talk.

The day he arrived in Los Angeles, he‘d seen Marni on the nightly news. He couldn‘t believe his eyes. Marni–his Marni–was prosecuting an extremely high-profile serial killer. He‘d immediately gotten the number to the D.A.‘s office from the information operator. But every time he picked up the phone to call he replaced the receiver before he could punch in her number. Too much time had passed. After all these years, she certainly had to have a life of her own–a point she‘d made perfectly clear when she‘d told him she never wanted to see him again. No explanation, no justification. Simply goodbye. The next day she‘d been gone, almost as if she‘d never existed in the first place.

She was even more beautiful than he remembered. She‘d matured, naturally, and although the image she projected in her navy blue suit spoke of a fashionable professional, her conservative attire could not completely hide her sensuality. Yet cool was the word that came to Cole‘s mind when he thought about her. She had a don‘t-touch-me look, and he wondered why. Had someone hurt her? What had happened to change the soft, warm young woman he‘d loved? Hell, he still wanted to know why she‘d left him. He‘d played their parting scene over and over in his mind and still couldn‘t come up with a plausible reason for her actions.

Cole ordered a light beer and nursed it while he waited. He couldn‘t help wondering if she would show up or not. She‘d been anxious to get away from him. He thought he‘d seen fear in her eyes, and again he questioned her reasons. Why would she fear him? Cole decided there was only one way to find out.

Nearly an hour later, he spotted her at the front entrance. He stood, impatient for her to see him. He waved, caught her attention and watched her cross the crowded pub with the natural grace of a dancer. There was an easy confidence about her Cole didn‘t remember from their youth. In the dim light of the bar, she appeared ethereal. He caught himself wishing she‘d worn her hair down, bouncing around her face. Did it still shimmer like a wheat field swaying in a gentle breeze? Her delicate features hinted at a patrician background. No one would suspect she was a fatherless girl from a rundown trailer park on the wrong side of town.

“You‘re late,” he told her tersely, hiding his relief that she‘d really come.

She cast him a quick, nervous glance, nodded, then scooted into the booth. The skirt of her navy blue suit hitched up, showing him a goodly portion of her legs. Cole admired the long shapely limbs for a moment before signaling for the waitress. Sliding into the booth opposite her, he asked, “What‘ll you have?”

She kept her gaze averted from his, and he wondered if she was truly afraid, after all. The notion was ridiculous.

“Whatever you‘re having is fine.”

“Beer?” When she nodded, he chuckled. “A woman after my own heart.” The waitress glanced his way and Cole motioned for two beers.

“I heard your name on the radio while driving here. Congratulations.” Pride had surged through him when the newscaster reported the conviction of James Kendell and the part Marni played in bringing him to justice.

She shrugged her slim shoulders as if the event was a common occurrence. “I‘m sure I‘m on the six o‘clock news right now, too.” Her voice held a detachment he found unnerving. She used to look at him with such adoration and he silently berated himself for wanting to see that look in her eyes again. Marni had always been bubbly, a happy-go-lucky type. Time had changed her, hardened her. He wondered if it was because of her job.

Cole dropped a bill on the table when the waitress delivered two bottles of beer and a bowl of warmed peanuts, along with a glass for Marni. “Did you get a conviction on all the charges against this guy?” He hoped to bring her out of wherever she was hiding. Maybe talking about her victory today would do the trick.

She glanced his way. Her eyes darted back and forth, refusing to hold his gaze for longer than a second or two. “I was able to get him for the kidnapping and murder for five of the six victims.”

Cole leaned back into the dark green Naugahyde. “Why only five?”

She looked at him and he saw the intelligence in her eyes. The coffee-colored orbs were sharp and assessing, as if she sized up everything and everyone within seconds. A habit, he assumed, she‘d developed since becoming an attorney.

“The fourth victim may have been a copycat and we had no hard evidence.” She absently fingered the bowl of peanuts. “I should still be able to convince the jury to go for the death penalty.”

“Good. Kendell is a real scumbag.” Taking a sip of beer, he watched her transformation. Within minutes, she was talking animatedly, gesturing to make her points. Still, a detachment in her demeanor irritated him. He‘d seen that look before, the day she told him to get lost.

She laughed lightly at one of his remarks. Cole liked the soft, melodious tones drifting over him.

“Doesn‘t it get to you, though?” he asked, becoming serious again. “You see the very worst side of humanity every day.” He didn‘t care if they were discussing the exchange rate in China–at least she was talking to him.

She sighed. “You get used to it.” Marni took a sip of beer, then glanced away. She stared at the cheap, framed print behind him as if it were the most fascinating work of art she‘d ever seen. “So, are you in town long?”

“I moved here about six months ago,” he answered lazily, and waited for her reaction.

She looked back at him abruptly. “Why?”

Cole frowned at the alarm in her gaze. The yellow flecks in her eyes turned to gold, signaling the intensity of her reaction. “I‘ve taken over the software division of Ballinger Electronics.”

She took a deep breath as if to calm herself. “Oh. I read about the lawsuit. You‘re being sued for copyright infringement, aren‘t you?”

Cole nodded, disappointed she preferred to keep their conversation on an impersonal level. “An overzealous employee duplicated a program and sold it as ours.”

Marni‘s brow creased. “Why don‘t you just settle?”

Cole lifted the beer bottle in his hand and took a quick drink before answering. “We‘ve tried, but the guy who developed the program wants blood.”

A hint of a smile touched her lips. “You‘re fighting a losing battle, Cole. Juries don‘t take too kindly to the big guys stealing from the little guys.”