Her mouth twisted. "Like you talked to Mike Gerhard?"
"I never heard of this Gerhard guy. Let me talk to your PI. Talk—nothin more. Just give me his name."
She laughed—laughed—then said, "You've got to be kidding."
Rage exploded in Jeremy—a white-hot burst of flame spreading from his chest into his limbs. He wanted nothing more than to run up these steps and wipe that smile—
She must have seen something in his face because her smile did disappear as she took a quick, small step back inside the door.
"You want to hit me, don't you."
The words struck like a bucket of ice water. Almost as if she'd read his mind. He looked down and saw his foot on the first step.
She stepped out again and gave him a contemptuous stare.
"Go ahead, brother. Do your worst."
Another explosion. Jeremy teetered on the edge of doing just that. This bitch had no idea what his worst could be. He started to raise his other foot to take the next step but stopped himself.
A voice in his head shouted, No!
That's exactly what she wants. She wants you to lose it and pound the shit out of her. Because then she'll have won. You can double-talk your way out of unsubstantiated accusations and lab reports, but take a few pokes at Dawn's momma here in public and you'll not only lose your freedom, but you'll lose Dawn as well. For good.
He backed off the step—damn near the hardest thing he'd ever done—and kept a calm expression as he looked up at her.
Maybe Daddy hadn't done such a bad job siring her. She'd done what she was supposed to: Birthed a baby girl and raised her and protected her. She was even ready to take a beating for her.
I take back the "cow" remark, Moonglow. You've grown into one hell of a woman.
And with that he felt something stir in his loins. He realized he wanted her—wanted to rip off those clothes and take her.
That too was off-limits. But it gave him an idea. A wonderful idea.
"This is getting us nowhere. Be warned. And be warned about somethin else. Dawn says she told you about the pregnancy. Well, if you ever hope to lay eyes on your grandson, even for a second, you'd better make the best of things as they are and leave us alone."
He took huge satisfaction in Moonglow's stricken expression as he turned away and sauntered toward his car.
13
"Well, did you tell her?" Dawn said when Jeremy stepped through the door. "Did she get the message?"
He put on an uncertain look. As before, he had to play this carefully. Even more carefully than the last time.
"I… I don't think so. I don't think she'll ever leave us be."
Dawn stepped closer, a concerned look on her face.
"What do you mean?"
Jeremy looked away. Now the touchy part. Had to hold back and let her think she was prying it out of him.
"Nothin."
"Nothing? Come on! You threatened her with a lawyer and what did she say?"
"It's not what she said. It's what she did."
"What, damn it!"
He loosed a long sigh. "I'm not sure how to tell you this… not sure I even want to."
"What do you mean?" Dawn took a step back. "She didn't try to hurt you, did she? Did she have her gun?"
Oh, this was perfect, perfect.
"I almost wish she had."
"What are you saying?""
Another sigh, then he turned and gave her a forlorn look as he hit her with the money shot.
"She came on to me."
The color drained from her face. "What?"
"I was afraid you wouldn't believe me. You thought I was lyin about her tryin to buy me off and—"
"No!" She waved her hands. "No, it's just—are you sure?"
"Well, she was wearin some sort of red robe that she took off and there she was, standin right in front of me bold as day in her birthday suit."
Jeremy knew about the robe from his explorations of the house the few times he and Dawn had had the place to themselves.
"No! She'd never! What did she say!"
"Nothin. But she knelt down in front of me and started pullin at my fly, and… and I guess that kind of said it all. I—"
Dawn waved her hands again. "Stop it! Stop it! I'm going to be sick!"
"I knew I shouldn't have told you."
"Ohmigod! But this is so not her. Mom's just not into that. I mean, she's gone out like maybe twice in the last two years."
Careful… careful… need just the right tone here…
"Maybe that explains it."
Dawn looked at him like a kid who's just been told there is no Santa Claus. "She stripped down right in front of you? That's so totally not my mom."
He decided to risk going out on a limb to add the finishing touch.
"I was floored myself. Did you know she's got this cute little butterfly tattoo"—he touched his lower abdomen, just below his belt line—"right here."
Dawn pressed her hands against her eyes. "Stop! I've seen it! I've seen it! Damn her!"
He slipped his arms around her.
"Go easy on her, darlin. She seems like a real confused woman. Don't be too mad at her."
"Too mad? Oh, I'm not too mad at her, because mad doesn't even come close. I'm like totally pissed out of my mind!" She bit her upper lip as she blinked away tears. "My own mother. I can't believe this."
"I'm so sorry, Dawn."
And for an instant he meant it. She was hurt, crushed. So although he wanted to take a run up to Vecca's and find out where this detective was getting his info, he couldn't leave Dawn right now.
She'd just had the rug pulled out from under her life. But Jeremy was going to give her a new rug—a Persian carpet.
14
The phone rang. Christy checked the caller ID and saw Dawn's number.
Now what? As much as she loved her daughter and wanted to speak to her, she had a feeling this would not be pleasant. Not after the way they'd parted this afternoon. Not after the smirk on that man's face as he'd left earlier.
After hesitating for a few heartbeats, she picked up.
Dawn… screaming incoherently…
Christy's heart climbed into her throat. Had something happened? Had he done something to her?
"Dawnie-Dawnie-Dawnie! What is it? Are you hurt?"
"Hurt?" she screeched. "How can you ask that? I'm not hurt—I'm CRUSHED! My own mother! How could you DO that?"
"Do what? What are you talking about?"
"You know damn fucking well what I'm talking about!" The screech broke off in a wrenching sob. "How could you, Mom? How could you come on to Jerry like that? You of all people!"
What? Come on to that man? Never in a million years!
"I don't under—"
"He told me all about it!"
The bastard! The sneaky, lying bastard!
"Then he's lying. I didn't even let him in the house!"
"No!" The screech again. "YOU'RE lying! You took off your clothes right in front of him!"
"I did no such thing!"
"STOP LYING! He told me about the butterfly! How else could he know about the butterfly if you weren't stripped down in front of him!"
Butterfly? What was she—?
Her tattoo—she'd got it on a crazy whim at seventeen… high… at the beach… wearing a bikini… going to a tattoo parlor with her friends… they all got inked…
But how did that man know about it?
She'd worry about that later. Right now she had to break through Dawn's hysteria. Christy struggled to keep her voice calm, her tone rational.