“Curious?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Forty-eight hours ago you were doubting his relationship to you.”
“A lot can change in forty-eight hours,” she murmured, and peered down at her coffee.
“Yes. A lot can,” he agreed.
Something in his tone brought her head up, but his expression was impassive. He cleared his throat. “How about if we leave the business part till tomorrow? I don’t like mixing business with pleasure if I can help it.”
Allie felt unexpectedly flattered that she was part of the pleasure that night. Tomorrow would be soon enough to get the lowdown on this new family of hers.
Joel insisted on picking up the tab for dinner. “Expenses,” he said, settling the matter, and because the evening was so mild, they decided to walk.
“Is it always this quiet on a Thursday night?” he asked.
“This time of year it is, because most of the university students have gone home for the summer. The weekends are busy, but the real tourist crowd doesn’t arrive until June. Then all the outdoor restaurants, clubs and bars are full.”
“I was watching the marina from my hotel room. I guess it’s hopping in the summer, too.”
“Oh, yes,” Allie said, nodding. “I once spent a hectic summer working there when I was a student. The boating crowd tends to attract some pretty eccentric types.”
“I don’t get the draw,” Joel said. “To big luxury boats, I mean.”
“Some people call those huge speedboats ‘babe magnets.’”
“Ouch! Expensive way to ensure a good love life,” he muttered.
She laughed, but thought he’d probably never had to worry about attracting women.
They’d reached her house and now stood awkwardly in front of it. Allie briefly considered asking him in, but had too much to do. He solved the impasse by commenting, “I imagine you have things to get ready. And you have to pack for a couple of weeks.”
“Really? I didn’t think it would take that long.”
Joel frowned. “I hope I never implied that, Allie. If I did, I’m sorry. First they have to do blood tests to see if you’re a match. This is assuming Spiro is still in remission so they can go ahead with the transplant. Plus, you’ll need a few days to recuperate.”
Allie’s stomach gave a small lurch. She hadn’t thought through the physical implications of the whole business. “I hope this doesn’t jeopardize my… I mean, I’m supposed to…”
“Your triathlon? We’ll find out as soon as we get there, but I’ve a hunch it won’t. End of June, you said?”
She nodded.
“It should be okay. Don’t worry.” He leaned forward and kissed her gently on the cheek. “Thanks for a great evening. I enjoyed it.”
Allie simply stared. It wasn’t only the unexpected kiss that puzzled her, but the stiffly presented compliment that came with it. For want of anything wittier, she said, “Was that business or pleasure?”
A stain of red crept up his neck. “Definitely pleasure,” he replied. Then, turning on his heel, he said, “I’ll be here at eight.”
Allie watched his retreating back, thinking he was the oddest man she’d met in a long time. And if that was pleasure, she was thinking, what does he do to really let loose?
JOEL MADE THE CALL about ten o’clock. Their estimated time of arrival in Grosse Pointe, he’d said, would be about four in the afternoon, allowing for lunch and rest-room breaks. Spiro was pleased, as Joel guessed he would be, but reserved.
He’d asked what Allie was like, and Joel had to think for a moment. In the end, he suggested that Spiro should draw his own conclusions, but that she was definitely Katrina’s daughter. Joel told him about the duplicate photograph, omitting the fact that Allie’s mother had been torn out of the picture. When Spiro mentioned that the whole family would be on hand to greet her the next day, Joel felt a tug of sympathy for her. He hung up the phone and swung his legs off the bed.
Allie had no idea what she was getting into, yet still had agreed to go with him. A gutsy woman, definitely. Beautiful, too, though not in the Hollywood way. If he hadn’t been such a prig about following the rules, he might still be with her, instead of alone in his hotel room.
Maybe what he really needed was a long cold shower to rid his head of Allie Newman. Though he doubted the shower would be enough.
CHAPTER FOUR
ALLIE FIDGETED against the smooth leather upholstery of the car. She was tempted to take her Walkman out of her pack and listen to it, but was afraid Joel might be offended. She certainly wouldn’t be interrupting a flow of conversation, though. Since leaving Kingston an hour ago, he’d uttered scarcely half-a-dozen words. She leaned back and closed her eyes, thinking of last night.
After Joel had left, she’d been overcome by a fit of energy. She couldn’t understand the tumult of emotions his leaving had produced. Or was it the fraternal peck on her cheek? Why would that bother her at all? The kiss had been so neutral it couldn’t even be considered inappropriate. Allie sighed, opening her eyes just enough to sneak a glance at the man beside her.
He’d nicked himself shaving that morning, she noticed, spotting a small cut on the lower edge of his jaw. And the slightly puffy semicircles beneath his eyes indicated a rough night. Insomnia? she wondered, or had he hit the bars after leaving her? She dismissed the latter, deciding he was far too disciplined. Yet if he had been tossing and turning, what thoughts had kept him from sleep?
She doubted they were the same confused thoughts that had her pacing the apartment until finally she hopped on her bike and rode out to the farm. Susan had greeted her with pleased surprise, tinged with some dismay when she heard that Allie planned to leave the next morning for Michigan.
“Are you sure you can trust this man, dear? Do you feel you know him well enough for a six-hour drive? Why not take a bus?”
Allie hesitated. She felt that she could trust Joel Kennedy, although she realized, in the face of Susan’s questions, that she really had no basis for feeling that way. What exactly was it about him that had produced this belief that he was trustworthy? Not his warm, engaging manner, to be sure.
“How do you even know his story is legitimate?”
Allie didn’t like where Susan was going with this. In fact, it strongly reminded her of the old days when her father grilled her about a new date. “The photograph, remember? The one I found in Dad’s papers? And by the way, did you ever find anything else?”
Susan shook her head. “Nothing but some old receipts, insurance papers and so on. Did I tell you that there wasn’t a single income-tax return?”
“I guess you can’t file a return if you’re living under an alias.” Allie fell silent then, thinking of all the different jobs her father had held. Each one probably paid in cash.
“I suppose not,” Susan whispered. “It probably also explains why he refused to own a credit card and insisted on paying in cash for everything. When we bought the business together, I used his half for a cash deposit. He said he wanted the business to be in my name.” Her sigh sounded sad and regretful.
Allie hugged her. “Susan, I wish he were here to explain everything. And why he did it.”
“Me too.” Susan pulled away, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. “Anyway, what about this Kennedy? Have you checked to see if he really is a private investigator?”
“No,