Lethal Legacy Read online

  Amy tasted a spicy salmon croquette and hoped the rich meal wouldn’t upset her stomach. “How did old Rock Springs react to that?”

  He swallowed a forkful of salmon and smiled. “Actually, the community’s been extremely welcoming. Course, there’s a lot of revenue involved.”

  “Amazing how quickly some people forget their prejudices in the face of money. I’m glad it’s working out,” she said as she selected a scallop-edged slice of cucumber from the artistic nest of vegetables surrounding the two croquettes.

  “How’s your life going?” Nathan asked after a moment.

  The question jarred her out of her reverie. Great, just great. You’re married to another woman and I’m carrying your twins. She pursed her lips and wobbled her hand. “So so.”

  He lay down his fork. “Apparently you’re happy.”

  She stiffened. Had she given herself away? She picked up a tiny carrot stick, bit off a piece, chewed, and tried to swallow. “Oh?”

  Nathan pushed his plate aside and concentrated on restoring his napkin to its former pleated state. “I was on my way to the coffee shop,” he gestured toward the mezzanine, “when I heard the man in front of me say, ‘that’s what I call a pretty woman.’ I glanced over the rail and there you were.” He slowly raised his gaze to meet hers. “He didn’t even come close, Amy.”

  The softness in his eyes undid her. “Didn’t come,” she hesitated, “close?”

  He smiled. “You look absolutely beautiful.”

  Much to her distress, her eyes filmed over. She ducked her head, blinked rapidly, and stretched her eyes wide to contain the moisture. When she thought it safe, she smiled across at him. “Thanks. A woman my age needs an occasional boost.”

  “Say,” Nathan asked, “are you in love?”

  She stayed silent for a long moment, selecting and discarding answers. “Being in love’s not the only cause of happiness, Nathan.”

  Nathan smiled. “No.” he said, his gaze moving over her face. “Not the only one.” His scrutiny sharpened. “You’ve gained weight. That’s good.” He plucked a stray shred of lettuce from the tablecloth and deposited it on his abandoned plate, before he again met her eyes. “I’ve been worried about you.”

  Her throat tightened. She hoped she could keep her voice steady. “No need. I’m a tough old bird.”

  He lifted an eyebrow and smiled. “Sure you are. Poison couldn’t kill you and bullets bounce right off your skin.” Abruptly, his attention turned to a corner of the room, where a clock chimed softly. With disappointment in his eyes, he pushed back his chair and got to his feet. “I have to go. My meeting starts in a few minutes.”

  She laced her fingers together to keep her hands from trembling. When she spoke again, her voice sounded tight and unnatural to her ears. “Nice seeing you again. Thanks for lunch.”

  Nathan ran his thumb along the welting of the velvet chair. “Could we … have dinner?”

  Amy stared down at her clenched hands. Much as she wanted to be with him, she knew dinner together would only compound the pain she felt over losing him. “I have to get back to Ursa Bay. I’m working on a case.”

  “I see…” He shifted his feet. “Well…” He sighed deeply. “It was nice talking to you, Amy.”

  “Yes, very nice.” She spoke slowly in an effort to keep her emotions under control. “T-take care.”

  He smiled sadly. “You too.” He started across the room, hesitated, and retraced his steps. “If you should ever need me, for anything, call me.” He handed her his business card and strode out of me room.

  After watching him leave, Amy waited for the trembling to stop before picking up her purse and preparing to leave.

  As she started to rise, the skin prickled at the back of her neck. She settled back in her chair. Someone was watching her, she could feel it. She surveyed the room, then finally looked up. Nathan stood at the third floor railing, gazing down at her, a strange, unreadable expression playing across his face.

  4

  That evening, at eight o’clock the bedside phone rang. Amy sighed, rolled over, and lifted the receiver. “This is Dr. Prescott.”

  “Hi, Nathan here. Am I interrupting anything?”

  Her heartbeat quickened at the sound of his voice. She’d been thinking about him ever since lunch that afternoon. “No, I just crawled into bed.”

  “Bed!” His voice rose. “Are you sick?”

  “Just tired.”

  “I knew it.”

  She forced down a surge of panic. “Knew what?”

  “You haven’t been well, have you?”

  His statement didn’t surprise her. In his early boyhood, Nathan had been taught by his grandfather to use all of his five senses. Now, they were finely honed. He could read people well.

  “You needn’t worry about me, Nathan.”

  He let out a long breath. “I saved your life once. We’re spirit bonded.” He sighed again. “What kind of a case are you working on? It must be a difficult one.”

  “It is. Dr. Cam Nguyen, a friend I interned with, has been accused of murdering his wife.”

  “Did he do it?”

  “No, but so far everything seems to suggest the opposite. And his alibi has completely fallen through.”

  “Whoa, hold it a second,” Nathan said. Amy heard a couple of thumps and a rustle of fabric through the phone line, followed by a soft chuckle. “All settled in. Start at the beginning. I want to hear everything.”

  During her detailed account of the murder and investigation, Nathan stopped her occasionally to ask a question. When she finished, he inhaled deeply, then laughed. “I never thought I would get the itch again,” he said. “But I sure would like to be working on this with you.”

  “Well, it’s a tough one, all right. We can’t make any progress until I find someone in Wheeler’s Southeast Asian community who’ll talk to me.”

  “Hey, I have an idea. Will you be in your office around ten tomorrow morning?”

  “Yes,” Amy said after a brief hesitation.

  “Good. I’ll meet you there, okay? See you then.”

  “Wait,” Any said, then realized he’d hung up. Damn! She dropped the receiver back in the cradle and flopped back on the pillow. How could he possibly meet her at the office? He didn’t even have the address.

  Suddenly, excitement swept aside her momentary gloom. Nathan knew everything about her, her age, her birthday, even the fact that she had once been married for four years. And what he didn’t know he had ways and means to find out. Last October, before they’d even met, someone in the government had provided him with a complete file on her.

  The next morning, Amy tossed outfit after outfit onto her bed. She tried on every item before she chose green slacks and a matching jacket that went well with her brown hair and eyes. Even more important, the jacket’s padded shoulders and bulky weave adequately camouflaged her condition.

  Her head cocked to one side, she studied herself in the full-length mirror and spread her fingers over her slight tummy bulge. When she’d last seen Nathan, her five-foot-seven frame had been lean as a greyhound. No wonder he’d commented on her increased weight She could only hope he didn’t guess at the reason for it.

  After eating breakfast, she took the elevator downstairs to the first floor. When she and her father had bought the old nautical supply warehouse, they hired a crew to gut the interior and do extensive remodeling.

  On the first floor, they set up their forensic investigative business with separate rooms for office, client conferences, and laboratory.

  The second floor contained her father’s one-bedroom apartment, her three-bedroom apartment, and one they eventually planned to rent out. The vacant third floor they used for storage. In a few years, Amy visualized it as being an ideal play area for her children.

  A frown furrowed her forehead. Last night, she’d been too exhausted to go through the hassle of breaking the news about the twins to her father. He hadn’t made a secret about his opposition to t
he pregnancy, and had even counseled her early on about having an abortion. The thought of ridding herself of Nathan’s children made her shudder. The lives growing inside of her were the only thing that made her separation from Nathan bearable.

  She plodded into the office. Because of the important evidence they kept on the premises, the laboratory entrance had a set of metal doors, one inside the other, both with numerical key-pad locks.

  Punching in the code, she opened the door, took several steps, fingered the next combination, slipped inside, and adjusted her eyes to the bright fluorescent fixtures lighting the white-walled room. Around the area’s outer perimeter ranged various machines used in analyzing physical evidence.

  At a green Formica-covered counter, her father sat hunched over a polarized-light microscope, just one of the half-a-dozen types strung out on either side of him.

  “Good morning, Dad.”

  He swung around, regarded her closely, and ran a hand over his bald pate. “Morning, kitten. How’re you feeling?”

  “Okay, I guess. Saw the specialist yesterday.”

  “Find out why your nausea has lasted so long?”

  Amy jacked up her courage and plunged in. “He says it’s not unusual for someone who’s going to have twins.”

  His eyes widened. “Twins! Good God, Amy, have you taken leave of your senses? One baby is ridiculous. Two is impossible.”

  She braced her hands on her hips. “These are my babies.” She thumped her chest. “Mine. I’ll never abort them. Either accept that, or I’ll move out so you won’t be reminded of my loose morals.”

  B.J.‘s eyes shot blue flame. “Dammit, Amy, get your head out of the clouds. How the hell will you be able to find a husband if you’ve got two kids?”

  Amy raised her chin and met his fiery gaze. “I don’t want a husband, Dad. I love Nathan.”

  He scrubbed his hand over his face. “With two kids as a daily reminder, you’re not apt to forget him either.”

  “I don’t want to forget him.”

  “Obviously.” He sighed wearily. “I’ve been down that road. For your information, it’s not a stroll in the park!”

  Amy pressed her hand against her churning stomach. “I don’t think you did too bad.”

  He drew his heavy brows together in a scowl. “Dammit, I just want you to have a normal life,” he muttered. “Is anything wrong with that?”

  “No, Dad. It just isn’t going to be that way.”

  “So I see.” He bent over the microscope again. “I’d like to tell that damn dream man of yours just what I think of him.”

  Amy let out her breath slow and easy. “You just might get that opportunity. Yesterday I had lunch with Nathan at the Maxfield Hotel.”

  B.J. spun around. “You what?”

  “He was there attending a resort owner’s conference.”

  B.J. thinned his lips to a hard line. “And you just happened to run into each other.”

  “We didn’t plan it, Dad.”

  “So how’s his marriage between friends going?”

  “I have no idea.” Amy jammed her hands into her jacket pockets. “Oh, and by the way, he’ll be here this morning.”

  “Christ, what next.” B.J.‘s penetrating stare pinned her in place. “Are you going to tell him?”

  Her expression grew hard. “No, and neither are you. If I know Nathan, he’s only coming because he thinks he can help us out on the Nguyen case.”

  “Great pretext,” B.J. barked. He slid off his stool and took hold of her shoulders. “Amy, if you’re determined to have his children, he deserves to know.”

  She wrenched herself out of his grasp. “Why? He doesn’t want two more half-breed Blackthorns any more than you do.”

  “Whoa, girl.” B.J. leveled a finger at her. “Their race isn’t an issue here. Children need a mother and a father. And you damn well know it.”

  “We’ll manage.” She headed for the front office. “I’ll let you know when Nathan arrives. And Dad,” she turned and regarded him with a stern expression, “Behave.”

  The stack of paperwork had diminished by only a few sheets when the foyer door slammed and Nathan opened the office door. “Hi,” he said as he ambled over to her desk.

  She pressed her back against the chair and tried to appear casual. “You’re out and about early.”

  A self-conscious grin lifted one corner of his mouth. “I know, I know. I couldn’t wait to see … to get here.”

  Amy regarded him as if she’d never seen him before. Marriage had changed him. The Nathan she knew had kept his emotions hidden. Now there was a definite gleam of anticipation in his eyes. Was he here because … her world shifted on its axis and she curbed the thought. She had to guard against foolish hopes.

  She lifted the phone receiver with an unsteady hand. “My father’s in the lab. He’ll want to hear your ideas about the case. That is why you’re here, right?”

  “Oh … of course,” he said, slumping into an arm chair. “I forgot about your father.”

  “Dad, can you come out here please?” she said into the receiver, set it back in place, and studied Nathan again.

  He wore a white shirt, brown twill pants, and a brown leather jacket. His hair was several inches shorter than it had been the day before. “You got your hair cut,” she said.

  “It was time.” He rested his ankle on his knee and centered his gaze on the heel of his western-style boot. “Wearing my hair that way was childish, anyhow.”

  “Oh, why do you say that?”

  He turned his hand palm-up. “Daring people to question my Native American heritage.” A muscle worked along his jaw. “I should have forgotten the half-breed taunts long ago.”

  “Wounds sometimes take a long time to heal.”

  The inner metal door of the lab klunked shut and moments later Amy’s father strode into the office. His battle-ready countenance at the sight of Nathan propelled her across the room. She touched his rigid shoulder. “Dad, I’d like you to meet Nathan Blackthorn,” she said as she led him over to where Nathan stood. “Nathan, this is my father, B.J. Prescott.”

  Nathan put out his hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Doctor.”

  “Oh?” B.J. ignored Nathan’s proffered hand. “Like what?”

  Amy winced. She should have known this was a bad idea.

  Under B.J.‘s cold scrutiny, Nathan’s face tightened. “I keep up with what’s going on in the investigative business. Habit, I guess.” He shifted his attention to Amy for an instant and raised an eyebrow.

  She returned his gaze with reassurance in her eyes.

  “Well?” B.J. snapped and folded his arms. “Amy tells me you’ve come about the Nguyen case.”

  Nathan stared down at the older man for a full beat before he spoke. “I spent six months in Cambodia. Two with the hill tribes on the Thai border, two with the Hinayana Buddhist monks, and another two wandering the country.”

  She eyed her father. He knew how volatile the situation in Cambodia had been. Many of them hated the Americans for backing Pol Pot.

  B.J. blinked owlishly but maintained his belligerent stance. “Doing what?”

  “Gathering classified information. I speak Khmer, French, and Vietnamese. I might be able to reach people you and Amy cannot.”

  Amy caught her breath. In the last three minutes, she’d learned more about Nathan’s role in the Special Forces than he’d told her in the weeks they had worked together. But she had no time to think of that now. Her father’s expression was unreadable.

  She stretched her mouth into a smile. “We really appreciate your coming, Nathan.” She gestured toward an open doorway behind her. “Let’s go into the conference room.”

  Hooking her arm through B.J.‘s, she motioned for Nathan to precede them. “Stop it,” she said to her father under her breath.

  “I’ll do as I damn please,” he muttered. “This is my business too.”

  She glared at him. “If you continue to be so rude, you’ll be running it
by yourself.” When the two men seated themselves in the conference room, Amy set two mugs from a side counter on the table.

  “I’ll get some coffee,” she said, giving Nathan a reassuring glance. When she turned toward their small kitchen, he pushed back his chair and followed her.

  “Let me help,” he said.

  “Well … if you insist.” In the alcove, she switched on the toaster oven to warm some oat bran muffins she’d baked earlier. “Sorry about Dad,” she said in a low voice. “He has an attitude problem this morning.”

  “I deserve it, and more … much more.”

  Amy took a black lacquer tray from a slot beneath the birch cabinets and placed it on the counter. “You don’t, Nathan. You were honest with me. You told me you were engaged.”

  “No!” Nathan leaned down until his eyes were on a level with hers and touched his fingertip to her lips. “No, Amy. Not soon enough. We both know that. I should have stayed away from you.”

  She picked up a sponge and wiped the already spotless counter. “I’m glad you didn’t,” she said softly.

  The air whistled out of Nathan’s lungs as a bleak cast spread over his features. “Amy…”

  The toaster bell dinged, breaking the intimate mood. “You still take your coffee black?” she asked.

  At his nod, she took a ceramic bowl containing packets of sugar and cream substitute from the cupboard and smiled at him with her eyes. “I’m trying to keep Dad’s weight and cholesterol down.” She set out silverware and dessert plates, located a tub of margarine in the counter top refrigerator, and slid the muffins out of the toaster oven.

  Nathan inhaled their aroma and the corners of his mouth twitched. “Cholesterol and calorie-free?”

  She grinned back. “Near as I could make them. If you’ll carry the tray, we’ll rejoin the fire-eating dragon.”

  In the birch-paneled conference room, B.J. sat at the head of the square table, writing progress notes in a manila folder. To her relief, he had distributed pencils and scratch pads. He had even made a copy of their current investigative report for Nathan.

  After Amy initiated the discussion and got the men talking, she slipped away to the kitchen and returned with a glass of water and a piece of hard, dry toast for herself. Eyeing B.J. she seated herself next to Nathan, hoping her father would get the message that she wouldn’t allow him to take pot shots her friend.