she often claimed.
Not that Pete fell for the religious hype. Eve could keep her God. He would depend on his own abilities to get through tough times.
She held up the photo. A bleached blonde with widespread eyes, flat nose and an underdeveloped upper lip.
Pete stared at the picture. “I thought the lawyer who handled the adoption died years ago.”
“That’s right. But the P.I. located the records. The Collins family, who adopted my baby, lived in Augusta at that time. They named her Dixie. She currently lives in Craddock Sound.”
“About eighty miles south of Fort Stewart.”
“You know the area?”
“I spent three years at Fort Stewart with the army after my tour in the Middle East.”
Eve averted her eyes. Absent during that portion of his life, she didn’t comment, but returned instead to the subject at hand.
“Sam and Hazel Collins received their baby girl on November sixteenth, the day I delivered. Dixie’s driver’s license and social security card verify she’s who she says she is.” Eve pointed to the woman in the photo. “I’m sure Dixie Collins is my daughter.”
Who doesn’t look a thing like you, Pete wanted to add. Besides, there was something unsettling about the blonde.
The photo’s resolution wasn’t the best, still…?
He had never known Eve to touch alcohol, yet the woman who claimed to be Eve’s daughter had the facial characteristics of a person born to a mother who drank excessively. Fetal alcohol syndrome.
Not that he’d mention it to Eve. Not now. Not until he learned more about the unlikely daughter. A phony driver’s license and social security card were easy enough to come by. The vast fortune Eve’s rightful heir stood to inherit could make a number of people claim to be the missing daughter.
“Of course, my attorneys insist on DNA testing to confirm that she’s my daughter.”
Thank goodness for lawyers.
Eve glanced at her watch, then back at Pete. “I need to head to Dr. Davis’s office before the afternoon traffic.”
For a moment, she searched his face as if she, too, were remembering the past. Then she adjusted the stole around her shoulders, grabbed her purse and stood.
“You lived on the estate for twelve years, Pete. It’s still your home. Don’t be a stranger.”
Flashing a smile that touched the depths of his soul, she walked away, her heels clicking against the polished tile floor.
A chunk of his defensive armor began to crumble. He pulled in a fortifying breath. Eve and her parents had turned their backs on him years ago. Despite their actions, he wanted to help Eve and people who suffered the way she did, but relating to cells in a petri dish was different to dealing with someone face-to-face. Bottom line, he wouldn’t open himself to rejection again.
A door slammed. Magnolia Medical’s research department manager walked toward him, a file folder in her left hand.
“I had a call from Jamal Washington.” Veronica Edwards’s smile grew as she approached. “He wanted to brag about his favorite graduate student. Your use of antiangiogenic drugs to stop blood flow to VHL tumors is impressive, Pete.”
His cheeks burned. As much as he appreciated Veronica’s praise, he needed help with his funding more than adulation.
“I took your request to the board. Magnolia Medical can provide some assistance.” She opened the folder and handed him a form with a five-digit figure highlighted in the top paragraph. “A start, although I know it’s not enough to cover all your research. No doubt, the VHL Institute will provide additional support.”
“I’m not applying for their grant.”
“Eve isn’t the Institute’s only contributor. There are others.”
“Whose donations pale in comparison. I won’t accept her help.”
“Look, Pete, I don’t know the whole story. Denise mentioned something about your father. But whatever happened was a long time ago.”
“Please, Veronica.”
She held up her hand. “Just don’t let your pride get in the way of saving lives. Applications for the Institute grant are due Tuesday. At least think it over. I’m giving you Monday off so you can use the long weekend to weigh your options.”
Without waiting for his response, Veronica turned back to the lab, leaving Pete to stare out the large windows that overlooked the parking lot.
His eyes focused on Eve scurrying toward her car. Her shoulders slumped forward ever so slightly, as if the effort of walking was almost more than her sickly body could manage.
Heaviness filled Pete’s heart. His father had cared more about the estate grounds than he had for the little boy who yearned to be loved. Eve had been Pete’s refuge. She’d showered him with affection. As a child, he’d responded in kind.
Love, connection, a sense of family was what they both had needed then and, if the truth were known, probably needed now.
Although Pete never told Eve, he’d gone into medical research because of her, hoping to find a cure for the disease that would eventually take her life. But he couldn’t change Eve’s lab results, and no matter how quickly his research proceeded, he wouldn’t find answers that would help her in time. Yet he could ensure that she didn’t give her heart and her fortune to someone who didn’t legally have a claim to either.
Craddock Sound? He had three days. Enough time to do a little reconnaissance. Hopefully, Pete would find out the truth about Eve’s supposed daughter.
TWO
Pete downed the last drops of the thirty-two-ounce cola he’d bought at the gas station as he turned off the highway and glanced at his BlackBerry sitting on the console. Thank goodness for mobile technology and the fact that Dixie Collins’s phone number had been listed in the phone book, along with her address. MapQuest provided the missing link.
For the last two hours, Pete had sat parked down a lonely stretch of back road in sight of Dixie’s modest home. Hurry up and wait. Just like in the army.
From the number of times she had stepped outside to use her cell phone, Pete wondered if something were going down.
He needed patience. And another cola.
His watch read 11:45 p.m. Time for Dixie to get some shut-eye.
Pete wouldn’t mind catching a few winks himself.
He pushed the seat back to its full extension and stretched his legs. Rubbing a hand over his eyes, he was just about to nod off when he heard an engine. Startled, he straightened.
A Lincoln Town Car pulled into the driveway. Green body, white vinyl top, mid-nineties vintage.
The driver stepped
