Every Breath You Take Read online

  Often, she attempted to share her knowledge with Mitchell, who always concealed his detached boredom behind an amused grin, but when she brought up Kate Donovan during their dinner at Glenmoor—and also attempted to extract information from him—his reaction was anything but amused and bored. She broached that particular topic after dinner, while finishing her dessert of crème brûlée, but she did it with such feigned nonchalance that Mitchell instantly realized she somehow suspected she was treading on dangerous territory with him. Looking at her lap, she reached for her napkin and daintily dabbed at her lips as she said with false innocence, “The last time you were here, I introduced you to Kate Donovan—Evan Bartlett’s fiancée—during the Children’s Hospital benefit. Do you remember her, dear?”

  Instead of nodding, Mitchell leaned back in his chair and stared silently at her.

  “Well, they aren’t engaged anymore,” she said, meeting his narrowed gaze, then hastily dabbing with her napkin again. “The engagement was called off a few weeks later. According to gossip, Evan and Henry both decided she wasn’t really fit to be a Bartlett, and Evan tossed her over. He’s been going out with several other women, but he’s also said some very ungentlemanly things about Kate. I couldn’t help noticing a bit of a strained atmosphere the night of the Children’s Hospital benefit when I introduced you to Kate—rather as if you and she already knew each other, and had some sort of falling out. Is that right?”

  Instead of replying, Mitchell signaled to the waiter for their check.

  Her face fell. “I was hoping to enjoy a glass of sherry with you the way we always do when we dine together. Is dinner over?”

  “Is this conversation permanently over?” Mitchell countered as the waiter promptly arrived at their table.

  She gazed at him in wary understanding, nodded meekly, folded her hands on the table, and looked down at them; then she drew a shaky breath and blinked rapidly. Aware that she was crushed, Mitchell asked the waiter for two glasses of sherry instead of the check, but that wasn’t enough to assuage the guilt he now felt for having hammered his point home about Kate Donovan with absurd—and needless—force on an elderly aunt who normally beamed with pleasure whenever she was with him.

  As he contemplated his aunt’s bent head and the wide, black velvet ribbon that held her thick white hair in a neat bun, he considered the best way to neutralize the situation. Despite her advanced years, his aunt was astute, curious, and a hopeless romantic. Because she was those things, Mitchell realized that his extremely negative reaction a few minutes ago might cause her to imagine that he harbored some sort of secret, unrequited feelings for Kate Donovan. Since he couldn’t and wouldn’t go into that subject with his aunt, Mitchell covered her hand with his own and asked her to dance.

  She had never mentioned Kate to him again, nor had anyone else, and in the ensuing months, he forgave himself for his blind infatuation with Kate because he realized it was probably the timing of his encounter with her that had caused his total lapse in reason and judgment, rather than a streak of idiocy and sloppy sentimentality that he’d originally blamed. After all, a few short months before his trip to Anguilla, William had traced him to England and turned all of Mitchell’s concepts about himself and his life inside out. William had begun by presenting Mitchell with the facts about his birth, and then he’d presented Mitchell with a ready-made family, including an elderly great-aunt who tugged at Mitchell’s heartstrings and an aging, autocratic grandfather who awakened all sorts of conflicting reactions in Mitchell. Within a matter of weeks—and somewhat against his will—Mitchell found himself thinking of William’s beautiful, gentle wife, Caroline, as “my sister-in-law” and young Billy as “my nephew.” And then there was William … if Mitchell had ever been asked to describe his vision of an ideal brother, and a magnificent man, he would have described William without knowing him. Long before Mitchell allowed himself to regard any of the others as his relatives, William was already “my brother” in his thoughts. And then William disappeared. As quickly and suddenly as he’d strolled into Mitchell’s life, he was wrenched from it.

  In view of all the upheaval Mitchell had experienced in his life shortly before meeting Kate, it was logical—and excusable—that his guard had been down and his judgment severely diminished when they met. The truth was, he never thought of her except on those extremely rare occasions when someone, or something, reminded him of her. When that happened, she flickered briefly across his mind like a pale light from a feeble candle, and then she simply … went out.

  That situation had been the comfortable norm for almost three years, but Matt Farrell’s phone call had changed all that. It had changed everything except one thing: Just as in the long-ago past with Kate, Mitchell now found himself, once again, in the position of being her uninformed dupe. Only this time his son was an innocent pawn in her heartless game.

  Chapter Forty-seven

  KATE PACED SLOWLY BACK AND FORTH ACROSS THE LIVING room, watching the clock on the wall tick off the seconds of each tormenting minute that passed without a return call from Mitchell. Nearly three hours had elapsed since she’d spoken to Matt Farrell, and there hadn’t been a word from the heartless man she had once thought she loved.

  Her uncle James had rushed over right after Marjorie had called him, and now, seated on one of the sofas, the priest waited helplessly for the phone to ring. His head was bent, his hands clasped loosely in front of him. He was praying Mitchell would call.

  Gray Elliott was sitting on a stool at the island counter that divided the kitchen area from the living room. He was Danny’s new best friend, intent on doing everything to ensure his safe return. If the darkening scowl on Gray’s face was any indication, he was fantasizing about yanking Mitchell from wherever he was, charging him with a gross lack of humanity, and throwing him in jail for life.

  MacNeil was standing at the window overlooking the street in front of the restaurant, where police cars with flashing lights were jammed together at crazy angles. The sidewalk was packed with reporters, concerned citizens, and curiosity seekers, who were hoping for firsthand information. Kate wasn’t sure what MacNeil was thinking, but he kept glancing at his cell phone as if willing it to ring. He was probably hoping for a tip, Kate thought, a lead that would send all those police cars racing away with sirens wailing to rescue Danny.

  Holly had left Maui in the middle of a veterinarians’ conference and was on her way back to Chicago. A task force had been set up in the main dining room downstairs, and calls resulting from the amber alert were starting to come in on the newly installed phone lines. Kate had ordered the restaurant closed within minutes of learning Danny was gone, but most of the staff were still down there, keeping a silent vigil for the little blue-eyed boy with the bright grin who had long ago captured their hearts.

  Childress was somewhere on the premises, Kate knew, and she supposed he was downstairs working with the task force.

  MacNeil’s cell phone gave out a sharp chirp, and he snapped it to his ear so swiftly that the motion was blurred. A moment later, he turned around and looked from Kate to Gray. “Two lawyers are downstairs—David Levinson and William Pearson. They represent Mitchell Wyatt.”

  Gray Elliott had straightened sharply at the sound of the lawyers’ names. “Tell the officers at the front door to let them in and bring them up here,” he replied. “Hopefully they aren’t here to threaten Kate with a lawsuit for claiming Wyatt is Danny’s father.”

  David Levinson announced the actual reason for their appearance as he strode swiftly into the living room, carrying a black suitcase identical to the one in Pearson’s hand.

  “Mr. Wyatt has instructed us to deliver ten million dollars in cash and to remain here awaiting further developments.”

  Kate’s arms dropped to her sides and she stared at them, overwhelmed with shock and relief, her eyes flooding with tears. If Mitchell had been there, she would have fallen to her knees in front of him and wept with inexpressible gratitude. Instead, she turn