Blame It On Paris

Will swiped a hand over his face. 'Okay, I can't take much more of this sweet talk. Just spill it out. What do you want?'

'Nothing.' She poured him a fresh mug of coffee-French vanilla, one of his favorites, which was the kind of thing Martha specialized in knowing. 'But…Will…I was thinking…'

'Uh-huh.' The way only an idiot walked into a dark alley at night. Will knew anything his sister said from here on out was dangerous. Afraid to take his eyes off her, when he felt the tug on his leg. he automatically pulled Ralphie onto his lap.

'If you happened to take the boat out, I was thinking you might not mind looking at a little cottage for me. It's right on the lake. There's a dock there, so you could pull up and see it. The cottage isn't fancy or anything, but while Ralph and Daphne are still young. I was thinking how great it'd be to have a place on the lake. Where the kids could swim and learn to sail in the summer, and the family could all come for picnics.'

Both his other sisters could do it. Add two and two and end up with fifteen. More interesting, they never thought anyone would notice. Hypocrite that he was. Will kept sipping her coffee because, damn, it was good coffee. But he was wondering what Kelly would think of his sister, what she'd say, how she'd handle the whole conversation.

Will could have known where this was going in his sleep.

Martha's husband made a decent living as a mid-level manager. Nothing wrong with Bob-he was a good guy all the way-but he didn't make enough to pay for the castle on the ravine, the garage with the apartment overhead, the beauty of a Sabre sailboat, the vacation overseas every year. Martha had never worked. She was a good mom, devoted to a bunch of seriously good causes, as well.

If she wanted a cottage, it wasn't going to come out of her husband's salary. It was going to come out of their dad.

'So,' he said, 'you want me to see this cottage and then talk Dad into buying it for you.'

'Of course not. I can talk to Dad on my own. I'd never ask you to do that. You two are oil and water, besides. But it'd help if you thought it was a good idea. Because even when you and Dad are fighting, he listens to you.'

That was so ridiculous that Will almost burst out laughing. Only he suddenly couldn't seem to hear his sister. Suddenly couldn't seem to feel Ralphie yanking on his ear with sticky fingers. Suddenly couldn't focus on anything in Martha's pristine kitchen.

Nothing had gone well since he'd come back, and making lemonade out of all these lemons was going to be nonstop challenging if not downright impossible. His father wasn't going to bend. His sisters were already playing him, his mom applying emotional thumbscrews, the whole shebang thorny and unfixable. just like always.

Yet it suddenly filled his head that he didn't want to return to Paris. Because even if he had no faith that anything at home could get better. Paris hadn't been the same once Kelly left. Paris was no good alone anymore.

He wanted Kelly in Paris.

Kelly in his Paris.

'Earth to Will, earth to Will,' Martha scolded.

'I heard you.' He took his empty mug to the sink. 'Okay.'

'Okay what?'

'Okay, I'll take the sailboat out.'

'And you'll look at the property?'

'Martha, Martha. Martha…' Swinging Ralphie high in his arms, he rose from the chair and gave his sister a smooch. 'You know I'm putty in your hands. I'd do anything you asked me to do.'

Martha gave him a suspicious look. They had, after all. been related all their lives. He'd been the one to squish shaving cream in her training bra and freeze it. His sister knew that he wasn't altogether trustable.

But that was about sisters.

Not about Kelly. Kelly could trust him with anything, including her life. His mind was already spinning possibilities. All of them about Paris and Kelly, and choices that had never occurred to him before.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

KELLY DECIDED that her office was starting to resemble a cave. The door was still visible, but the windows were now blocked with case boxes and texts; her desk was heaped high, and files had started wandering around, to the floor, to the chairs, to the windowsills.

The chaos was unavoidable. It happened every time she neared the end of a case. Like now.

Peripherally she was aware that Samantha had shown up in the doorway, but some things mattered more than bosses. Will, for example. One reason she was working herself into a frenzy was because it put relationship worries on the emotional back burner, at least for a few hours.

The current case was about a woman named Penelope. From the instant Kelly uncovered the name, she had a mental picture of highlighted hair and upper-crust bones. Somehow Penelope had copped a dozen or more credit cards. From the stolen cards, she'd ferreted out social security numbers, birthdays and all the other personal ID info that enabled Ms. Penelope to rob a half dozen innocent people.

Kelly's love of snooping had practically reached orgasmic proportions on this one. The credit card companies had all been contacted by the various people whose identity Ms. Penelope had stolen. So had the police. But everyone else had been stymied in the quest to identify the culprit…except for Kelly. Who hadn't yet found her, but man, she was sure on the cusp.

Ms. Penelope only purchased certain items with the cards. She didn't pay rent or make car payments. She bought Coach handbags. Versace clothes, Mackie tops, Wacoal underwear. She made a lot of long-distance calls to Los Angeles. She'd paid for a visit to a plastic surgeon in Minnesota.

Ergo, Kelly figured she was a hotshot wannabe, probably an unemployed actress with some youth and looks, willing to do anything to get what she wanted. Kelly had pinned down the first name for sure. The woman moved around, so finding her wasn't going to be a matter of pinning down a base address, but where she was trying to function, en route to Hollywood…

'Kelly.' Samantha let out such an exasperated shout that Kelly finally looked up.

'I'm sorry, what?'

'I've been trying to get your attention for at least four minutes!'

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry.' Well, she wasn't. Not only was she close to solving this particular identity-theft problem, but coming back to earth meant coming back to reality. Family messes. Life messes. Will, who hadn't called since the dinner with his parents, and who she knew darn well was mighty ticked at her.

She also knew why. Will wanted her to take his side. Instead, she'd felt compelled to tell him that he was being bullheaded. Of course, she shouldn't have been that honest with him. What man ever wanted to hear the truth?

Samantha stepped in. giving her another exasperated look, as if her boss was well aware she'd mentally wandered off again. 'Two things. This-' she put an envelope on Kelly's desk '-is a bonus. I can't give you a raise right now, not until your review in August. But you've poured on the coals so thoroughly that I had to express my gratitude.'

'Thanks.' Kelly didn't mean to rip open the envelope like a kid with a candy bar, but her fondness for living in student rental housing-even after the paint job-was paper-thin. She was saving money now, but she wasn't about to start looking for new digs until she'd scared up a seriously heavy down payment. Anything extra was more than welcomed.

Her jaw dropped, though, when she saw the amount printed on the check. Yeah, she'd done an outstanding job in the past few weeks. But after all, it was her job. And maybe she'd saved credit card companies considerable money. But that was her job, as well. 'Wow,' she said honestly. 'Thanks so much. What a surprise-and I really appreciate it.'

'I just want you happy, Kelly. I don't want you looking for another job.'

'You know I love the work.'