Detective Daddy. Mallory Kane
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“I can’t blame her. I’m not so sure it would be a good idea for her to remember what she saw. I wish I didn’t have that picture in my head, and I was five years older than Nat. What about the others? Devin?”
“He’s sure the DNA will come back as Campbell’s, just like I am. Aunt Angie is just worried about all of us, but man—you should have seen Uncle Craig. I thought he was going to have a stroke, right there. I nearly had to wrestle him to the ground to keep him from calling the D.A.”
“Well, Dad was his brother.”
“Yeah, but his reaction was way over-the-top. His face turned purple and he had trouble breathing. Seriously, I thought he was going to stroke out on me.”
“But he’s okay?”
“Yeah. For now.”
“Ash, what if the DNA doesn’t match?” Thad asked.
Ash winced as if dodging a bullet that had struck too close for comfort. “It’ll match,” he said starkly.
“Right. But what if it doesn’t?”
Ash’s shoulders hunched against the question. “I don’t know. Hell, it’s been twenty years. I can’t even imagine that it won’t.”
He heard Thad sigh through the phone. “I know. But I don’t like what my gut’s telling me. Listen. I think I can break away. I’ll let you know when I can be there.”
“You don’t have to do that. There’s nothing you can do to change anything. I just thought you ought to know what’s going on.”
“Nope. I’ve decided. I’m due some time off. I’ll just need to clear it and then find a plane to hitch a ride on. That could take a while. I might end up having to ride with cargo. But I’ll let you know as soon as I can.”
“Great. It’ll be good to see you.”
“Hang on a minute,” Thad said. “You’re not getting away that easy. If Rachel’s status is now ex—big surprise—then who’s the latest flame?”
Ash grimaced. “There’s not one at the moment.”
“Not one? You’ve got to be kidding me. What? Did you two break up yesterday?”
“No. Two months ago.”
“Okay. First, I’m seriously impressed that you remember how long it’s been, and second—two months! That’s got to be a record. What’s the matter with you?”
“Maybe I’m taking a break,” Ash said wryly.
“Maybe.” Thad’s voice had changed. Ash would swear his younger brother was grinning. “And maybe you’re still hung up on her.”
Ash winced. “No. I don’t get hung up.”
“There’s always a first time, even for Ashton Kendall, confirmed ladies’ man.”
“Say goodbye, Thad,” Ash muttered.
“Goodbye, Thad.”
Ash hung up and headed for his house, frowning as he replayed his and Thad’s conversation in his head. Thad had always been able to read him. There was some truth to what he’d said. Ash hadn’t dated anyone since he had broken up with Rachel. He considered his brother’s comment and his own response. Of course he didn’t get hung up. But Rachel was the singularly most irritating woman he’d ever dated. Irritating and interesting.
He shook off those thoughts and concentrated on Thad’s other irritating quality—his ability to drill down to the heart of any situation. Thad’s other question replayed in his mind, the same question that had bothered him ever since he’d heard the news.
The question no one else in the family had asked—not Devin, not Aunt Angie or Uncle Craig and not Natalie.
What if the DNA didn’t match? What if Rick Campbell was innocent?
As ASH TURNED ONTO HIS street, he saw Rachel’s car in his driveway. He looked at his watch. Six-thirty. Damn it. She got off at five. She’d had plenty of time to get here, clear out her stuff and leave.
It wasn’t like he wasn’t already haunted by the ghost of her presence in his home, in his bed—a new experience for him. One he didn’t like. Did she think seeing her in his house would land them back in the sack? At that thought, his body tightened in immediate sexual response.
No! No way. He had let her down gently and moved on, same as always. He loved women, but he wasn’t interested in settling down. Ever.
He’d heard the talk. He knew what people—and by people he meant women—said about him.
Love ’em and leave ‘em—happy. It was true. The phrase summed up his attitude toward women in a nutshell. But since Rachel, he hadn’t found anyone he was interested in enough to ask out.
For a split second he considered turning around and leaving. Give her plenty of time to clear out. He could run over to the mansion, not to see his aunt and uncle, but to check on Natalie, who had moved into the roomy guest cottage a couple of years ago. He wanted to make sure she was doing okay.
Then his stubborn streak kicked in. This was his home. He wasn’t the one who should be leaving. Rachel was. He pulled up to the curb, leaving the driveway clear behind Rachel’s car.
Stalking inside, he stopped short when he didn’t see her. Not in the living room and not in his bedroom. But what he did see took him aback.
Damn, he’d left a mess. He’d had trouble falling asleep, ordered a pizza at midnight that he’d barely touched and then finally drifted into a fitful sleep around four-thirty. He took a deep breath and wrinkled his nose at the smell of cold, stale tomato sauce and cheese. He didn’t mind cold pizza, but he liked it from the refrigerator, not sitting out all day.
He picked up the pizza box and took it into the kitchen to throw into the trash. He stopped cold. Rachel was sitting at the kitchen table, her head on her hands, asleep.
“Rach, what the hell are you doing?”
She started, then lifted her head. There was a red patch on her left cheek where it had rested on her hand. “Wha—?” She blinked. “Oh, Ash. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
Ash found himself caught by her eyes. He wasn’t sure what it was about those gold-green eyes with the reddish-brown ring around the edge of the iris, but he did know they had the power to make him think crazy thoughts—like how great it would be to fall into bed with her again, or how at thirty-three he was getting a little tired of the chase. How his flirtatious lifestyle wasn’t so much exciting these days as exhausting.
He shook his head to dislodge those thoughts that had been creeping into his mind ever since he’d cooled it between them. He had no intentions of changing anything about his lifestyle—which was why he wanted Rachel’s stuff out of here. He never brought women to his house and this was why.
Invariably, once a woman