Three
Chapter One
“Hello. Is anyone here?” called a woman’s voice from the outer office. Then, in a more irritable tone she said, “No, Jennifer! Don’t sit on the floor! Justin, hold on to Aunt Lena’s hand!”
These instructions were met with childish whimpers of resistance, leading Graham to surmise that his visitor had a couple of small kids in tow. He got hurriedly to his feet and headed for the door. It was noon and his secretary, Angela, had gone to lunch. She was the mother of three and an expert on kids, so Graham relied on her to protect the premises from being trashed on those occasions—rare, but memorable—when a client brought his or her offspring along.
Graham was at a total loss when it came to dealing with children—an understandable deficiency, since he hadn’t spent much time in the company of small fry. The younger of two boys, he’d grown up with virtually no contact with infants or toddlers. It was silly, but Graham regarded the whole notion of fatherhood as extremely intimidating, feelings he always owned up to when questioned on the subject by women he dated.
As he headed down the hall to the outer offices, he reflected on his unmarried state and wondered whether his candor on the subject of children had acted as a roadblock, preventing any of his romantic involvements from leading to marriage. He’d been thinking about this more and more since he’d turned thirty recently.
Only once had he proposed, more than four years ago. The words “Will you marry me?” had popped out in a moment of passion during his most intimate relationship.
He never dwelled on that memory, which still twinged.
“Can I help you?” he asked from the doorway to the outer office.
His unexpected visitor was a stranger, an attractive blond woman in her fifties who looked as harried as she’d sounded. Dressed smartly in a suit, she definitely wasn’t your stereotypical doting aunt, but he assumed, since she’d referred to herself as Aunt Lena, that the two preschool children with her must be her niece and nephew. Or, more likely, her great-niece and great-nephew. Both of them appeared to be unhappy campers, tugging to pull free of her firm grip on their small hands.
“Are you Graham Knight, the architect?” she inquired.
“Yes, I am—”
She’d turned her attention to the children. “Justin and Jennifer, will you please stand still? If you’ll behave yourselves for five minutes, Aunt Lena will buy you an ice cream.”
“I don’t want an ice cream,” Justin whined, tugging harder.
“Me, neither.” Jennifer sank down on the carpet and proceeded to throw a tantrum, kicking the floor with her patent-leather shoes.
Graham didn’t budge from the doorway. He had to raise his voice to be heard over the little girl’s loud wailing. “Would you care to make an appointment?”
“What a fiasco!” His prospective client sighed. “I should have called you in advance or written a letter, I suppose. I’m Lena Booth.” She had to shout, too, over the racket Jennifer was making. “Heather Booth’s aunt. I believe you and Heather dated four or five years ago. You remember her?”
“Why, yes, I remember Heather well.” She was the woman he’d proposed to, the woman who’d turned him down and broken off with him shortly afterward.
“Jennifer and Justin are Heather’s children. They’re twins.”
Heather’s children? Graham regarded the small girl and boy with new perspective, adjusting to their identity. Justin, brown-haired with brown eyes, didn’t resemble his mother, but Jennifer had Heather’s blond hair and blue eyes. She would probably be a pretty little girl if her face weren’t contorted with the fit she was throwing.
“If I let you go, will you promise to behave for a few minutes while Aunt Lena has a conversation with Mr. Knight?” Lena Booth said, addressing her charges. “You can watch the pretty fish in the aquarium.”
Jennifer promptly quieted, nodding.
“I’ll be good,” Justin mumbled sulkily.
When she had released their hands, the little boy walked over toward the aquarium, as prompted, but his sister sidled in the opposite direction, toward Angela’s workstation. Graham watched her nervously.
“Heather never mentioned having an aunt who lived on the North Shore,” he said to Lena Booth, taking for granted she would understand that he was referring to the North Shore of Lake Pontchartrain.
“I don’t live in Louisiana. I live in Jackson, Mississippi. I drove here today specifically to meet you and introduce you to the twins.”
Graham frowned at her in puzzlement. Why the dickens did she think he would want to meet Heather’s children? “Heather told you about me?”
“Oh, yes. I threatened to contact you much sooner, when she came back to Jackson pregnant and pleased as punch with herself. But I didn’t. Now I wish I had. I regretted my mistake even more when I had you investigated recently and confirmed what a decent man you are. Justin, stop doing that! You’ll scare the fish!”
Justin was slapping his palms on the glass front of the aquarium, making loud smacking sounds.
“Why contact me? And why on earth did you have me investigated?” Graham asked in bafflement.
“You really don’t have a clue, do you?” She shook her head, her expression oddly pitying. “Do your math. The twins are three and a half years old. Add nine months and then backtrack in time. Jennifer, leave the computer alone!”
Graham glanced blindly over at the little girl, who
