Anything for Her - By Janice Kay Johnson Page 0,76

been divorced two years before she and Allie took off. Ridiculous to think they’d have vacationed together.

“Aren’t there other ways to investigate someone’s background?” he asked, grasping at straws. “Where did the Nelsons live before they showed up in Fairfield? What’s Nelson’s working history? Did the school record show a work phone number for the mother?”

“Oh, I pursued all those avenues even though they were peripheral to what you asked me to find out,” the man said. “I tried, anyway.

“Mrs. Nelson was a buyer at a department store that’s gone out of business. I got the name and number of a former employer of Mr. Nelson’s before they appeared in Oklahoma, only that number has been disconnected. The area code was Michigan, Detroit area. Did some searches for a Mark and Judy Nelson in Michigan back fourteen, fifteen years ago and came up with zip. No drivers’ licenses on record, no traffic tickets, no indication they owned property.” His tone was the equivalent of a shrug. “I can go back and knock on Nelson’s door again, or try to find an acquaintance who knows something, but...”

“No.” Whatever instinct had made him speak so quickly, Nolan was listening to it. Or, hell, maybe it was his bank balance talking. “No, let’s call it quits for now.”

“Your decision. What about the son?”

Nolan mulled that over. “Let’s hold off for now. I’ll let you know if I want you to talk to him, too.” He pushed the button to end the call and tossed his phone back onto the counter. “Shit.”

What had he stirred? It made him uneasy that Mark Nelson first denied he had a daughter at all then refused to talk about her. If Allie and her mother had changed their names to make good their escape from him, you’d think he’d have been intrigued by a P.I. coming around and asking questions. It might have occurred to him that this could be a chance for him to track them.

Why would he be angry? For that matter, why afraid? His wife and daughter had left town ten years ago. Too long for any crime he’d committed against them to be prosecuted now. Did they hold something over him? If they did, why had they run?

And where did Allie’s brother fit in? Nolan heard a deep sadness in her voice when she talked about Jason. If the dad had hurt her, would the brother really have turned his back on her?

Too many questions, no answers. Nolan had a bad feeling he’d just wasted his money—and taken a chance of losing Allie once and for all besides.

Have I ever really had her, he asked himself bleakly, when she hasn’t even told me her real name?

Now what?

Quit pushing, enjoy the relationship for what it was, hope that over time she’d trust him enough to tell him her story? A raw sound ripped its way out of him. Oh, yeah, there was a plan. Fall deeper in love with a woman who lied to him every time she opened her mouth?

It wasn’t in him.

“Damn you, Allie Wright.” Laura Nelson?

Right this minute, he wished he’d never met her.

* * *

ALLIE GLANCED AT the number displayed on her phone and groaned. She hadn’t talked to her mother since they’d parted Sunday after the movie. She’d ignored a couple of calls because she still had no idea what to say.

This, she thought ruefully, was a perfect example of their differing styles. Or was it clashing? Mom wanted to confront problems head-on. Allie retreated into herself.

But I do love my mother. I know that much.

With a sigh, she picked up the phone.

“Hi, Mom.”

“I was afraid you wouldn’t answer.”

“I was planning to call anyway.” Sure I was.

“I’m glad.” Her mother sounded a little hesitant. “I thought it would be good for us to spend some time together.”

“Mom, I don’t think I’m ready to talk about this again. Not yet.”

“Talking is how we work out problems.”

“How do we work out something that’s over and done?” Bitterness made an abrupt appearance. “We can’t have a redo, can we? Can you honestly say you’d do anything different if you had the chance?”

The pause was long enough she thought the call might have been dropped—or Mom had hung up on her. “You’re not being fair,” she said then. “You have the advantage of hindsight.”

“But you still expect me to make any sacrifice you demand, don’t you, Mom?” And there, Allie realized, was the crux. Her greatest anger wasn’t felt for choices long past. It