From Riches to Redemption Page 5

  “Where do you stay while you’re here?”

  “At the house.” As she said the words, she looked at him and chuckled into her glass. “I know,” she said after swallowing some wine. “Living in the same house with my parents is not ideal. They watch me like hawks, always have, but I try to ignore it. I suppose I could get my own place here. I’ve just always felt like doing that meant I might never leave again. I don’t want that tethering me.”

  River couldn’t imagine spending every summer under his parents’ roof again. It wasn’t like he spent every evening partying with prostitutes or something, but he chafed under the supervision. If he wanted to leave dishes in the sink, or heaven forbid on the coffee table, it was okay. “Do you hate being home that much that you’d rather stay there than commit to some real estate? You wouldn’t have to buy. There are short-term rentals you could get. A beach house, even.”

  “I know. My father insists I stay there with them. For practical reasons, of course.”

  “Of course,” River agreed.

  “But you’re right,” she sighed. “I should find another option.”

  River lifted his glass and flashed his most charming smile. “Lucky you, I just so happen to know of a couple of amazing properties available in town.”

  * * *

  When Jade got home from her shift at the pharmacy, she found her fiancé, Harley, in his mother’s formal dining room. She had never returned to her rental bungalow after the break-in. Harley had all her things packed up and they’d taken up temporary residence at his mother’s mansion until he was done working the case for St. Francis Hospital.

  In the meantime, he had taken over the space as his pseudo-command center for his investigation into her thirty-year-old baby-swapping case. He had boxes of files, his laptop and anything else he could get his hands on sprawled across the large oak table. He was sitting at the head of the table, frowning at his computer screen like an unhappy king at a feast.

  “What’s wrong?” Jade asked. She put her purse down in one of the dozen ornate wood-and-velvet chairs and circled behind Harley to rub his shoulders. He had always taken this case seriously, but after the break-in at her house and her kidnapping, it had become personal for him. Almost all-consuming. Some nights she had to drag him to bed.

  “I can’t find the file I’m looking for. I’ve searched everywhere. It has all the information about the hospital staff that I reviewed with the former CEO.”

  Jade pressed her fingers into his tense muscles, eliciting a low groan from him. She glanced over his chair to the table and the boxes set out across it. Harley might be an investigator, but he was first and foremost a man. They couldn’t find anything, usually because it required moving something else and it wasn’t in plain sight.

  “When did you see it last?”

  “The day I went to his house. It has the personnel files and photos of all the nurses and physicians working when you were born. I’ve been looking for it since your family went out on the yacht with the Steeles a few weeks ago. I need to find that nurse’s information.”

  With a sigh, Jade walked over to the boxes. It had been a while since her families had had their first get-together. It had gone well enough, but with everything going on, she’d forgotten about Patricia and Carolyn’s discussion of the day the girls were born. Thankfully, Harley hadn’t. She glanced in a few boxes, flipping through some things before moving to the next one.

  “It’s not there. I checked twenty times.”

  Then Jade picked up one of the boxes, revealing the manila folder that had been beneath it. It was marked with a red confidential personnel stamp from the hospital. She didn’t say a word. That would just irritate him. She simply picked it up and laid it across the keyboard of his laptop.

  “Are you serious? Where was it?”

  “Doesn’t matter. What matters is you have it now. What are you looking for?”

  “The nurse Patricia and Carolyn were talking about on the boat. Her name was Nancy Crowley. When I spoke to the former hospital CEO, he mentioned how she’d committed suicide at the hospital less than a week after Hurricane Hugo and the switch.”

  Harley flipped through the file and pulled out a photograph that he handed over to Jade. She took it from him, studying the picture of the woman with the bright red curls and round face. She looked like she would have the cheery, chatty disposition that the mothers had mentioned from their time in the hospital. It was hard to believe that a week later, this woman would be dead.

  “She jumped from the roof. My gut feeling is that it isn’t a coincidence. I think the CEO said something about her having a drinking problem that may have driven the suicide, but I’m going to do some digging. It sounds more like the action of someone with a guilty conscience to me.”

  Harley’s words triggered a memory in Jade’s mind, but she couldn’t put her finger on it immediately. “What did you say?”

  “It just seems like the actions of a guilty conscience.”

  We’ve sat on our hands for three decades because of her stupid conscience...

  “Wait.” Jade put her hands up to silence Harley. “That’s it. That’s what they said in the van.”

  “Who?”

  “My kidnappers. One of them was complaining about the other guy’s sister having an attack of conscience that ruined their plans. Do you think that’s what they meant?”

  “It could be. Do you remember anything else?”

  Jade stared at the photo and tried to remember the argument she’d listened to as she banged around in the back of her abductor’s van. “I think one of them said she was dead, but she hadn’t told them what they needed to know.”

  “Like which baby was which?”

  She frowned. She wished she could remember more. She’d tried to memorize every moment, but between the stress and shock of the abduction, a lot of the details had become hazy in her mind over the last few weeks. “Could be. Did Nancy have a brother? That would definitely be a starting point. If not, it’s a dead end.”

  Harley scanned the file and pointed at the emergency contact box. “She listed her next of kin as her brother. Gregory Crowley. Does that sound familiar?”

  Jade shrugged. “I don’t think they used names. But one was definitely the brother. I’m not sure about the other guy, though.”

  She watched as he turned to his notes and flipped through to what he’d written down after listening to the recorded discussion he’d had with the retired hospital CEO. “He mentioned a brother and a boyfriend when he talked about Nancy’s suicide. How upset they both were. I’ll see if I can get any more information about her death from the local authorities. If this is the right lead, they could’ve been upset for an entirely different reason.”

  Jade crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. “Sounds like Nancy may have switched the babies and then took the secret with her to the grave.”

  * * *

  “You’re home awfully late, missy.”

  Morgan stopped in the grand foyer of her parents’ mansion and turned toward the library. There, she saw her brother Sawyer sitting in an armchair reading one of the leather-bound volumes their father collected.

  “You sound like Dad.”

  Sawyer flipped the book shut, setting it aside before getting up and walking out into the bright lights of the glittering chandelier that hung overhead in the entrance. His gaze narrowed at her for a moment. “You take that back,” he quipped and then smiled.

  “Where is Dad?” she asked.

  “That’s a good question. He asked me to come over tonight to discuss some work stuff, but he must’ve gotten caught up at the office. I haven’t seen him yet. I can tell it’s getting late because Lena keeps trying to feed me. She’s finally given up, but every time she walks by, she clucks her tongue.”

  “You might as well give in and eat.”

  Saw
yer sighed and looked down at the Patek Philippe watch he’d gotten for Christmas from their parents. “I will if you will.”

  “That’s fair. I haven’t had dinner yet.”

  That was true enough. They’d had a couple drinks, but Morgan had been careful not to let the evening with River evolve into more. Drinks could lead to dinner, which could lead to...breakfast. She couldn’t let that happen. So she’d politely made her exit after her second chardonnay and headed back to the house. In truth, she was starving now.

  The kitchen was dimly lit and immaculately clean when they went in. Lena was nowhere to be found, likely having retired to her quarters for the evening.

  “She must’ve given up on all of us,” Sawyer said.

  “We can find something for ourselves.” Morgan walked over to the giant Sub-Zero refrigerator and opened the double doors. There was every kind of fresh produce and dairy product imaginable. Dozens of neat containers lined the shelves with diced and prepared ingredients that Lena probably had ready for the next day’s meals. She knew to steer clear of that.

  Reaching inside, she grabbed a block of cheddar and a stick of butter. “Get the French bread off the counter and slice up a few pieces. We’re making grilled cheese.”

  Sawyer looked dubious, but did as he was told. “Since when do you cook?” he asked as he held up a skillet like it might bite him. “You keep the local Chinese restaurant in your contacts list.”

  “I can make grilled cheese. You went to college, didn’t you?”

  “We had meal plans,” he pointed out. “I ate three squares in the campus cafeteria. Didn’t you?”

  “Well...yes. But the food courts weren’t open 24/7. I can make grilled cheese.” She pulled a very sharp looking knife from the block on the counter and eyed the thick chunk of cheddar. This wasn’t the prewrapped individual slices she remembered from the grocery store. Slicing this poorly could cost her the tip of her thumb if she weren’t careful. The bread also looked crusty and treacherous. She should’ve known that Lena wouldn’t be caught dead with processed cheese or presliced white bread in her kitchen.

  “We can do this,” she insisted. “We are adults. We damn near run a company. There are people our age with children and homes that they manage on their own. Certainly, we’re capable of making ourselves dinner. Right?”

  Ten minutes later, with the butter and cheese back in the refrigerator where they belonged, Sawyer and Morgan settled in the upstairs family room with their old standby from their youth: a bag of tortilla chips, a jar of salsa and a container of cookies Lena had baked earlier. As kids, they had liked to sneak down into the kitchen late at night and find unhealthy contraband to take up and eat while they played video games. The kitchen was just as alien to them now as it was then.

  The family room, however, was where they’d spent their youth. It was the center of the “kids’ wing” with each of the children’s bedrooms surrounding the large common area. It was one of the only places in the house that they could do whatever they wanted. When they were young, it was a playroom with their toys, and as they got older, it evolved to include a big-screen television, all their video game systems and a foosball table. It even had its own minibar with a microwave, sink, small fridge and stash of healthy snacks for growing children. Unfortunately, it hadn’t been stocked with anything other than bottled water since Morgan had moved away to college.

  Morgan settled onto the large sectional sofa and laid out their makeshift dinner on the coffee table while Sawyer got some cold water bottles for them. She kicked off her heels and curled her feet up on the couch. It felt amazing to finally take her shoes off after a long day. She really didn’t like wearing them, but she was significantly shorter than the rest of the family and it was how she’d made up for that genetic shortcoming.

  “So where were you this afternoon? I came by your office to ask you something and your assistant said you’d already left for the day. Playing hooky?”

  “Hardly,” she said. “I was meeting with this summer’s contractor to look at some land we’re going to buy.”

  “And yet you smell like a sports bar. How does that work?”

  Morgan rolled her eyes and opened the bag of chips. “Yes, well, we went for a drink afterward.” She tried opening the jar of salsa and struggled.

  “What’s going on with that guy?” Sawyer asked. He took the jar from her and opened it easily. “River, right? That’s a weird name.”

  Morgan frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Nothing is going on. And you’re one to talk, when all of the kids in our family are named after Mark Twain characters.”

  “No changing the subject. I know a lot of personal crap has happened since the party, so I didn’t bring it up earlier, but it’s been long enough now. What’s up between you two? When I introduced him to you, there was something going on there.”

  She knew there were a couple different ways she could go with this. Outright lie. Lie by omission. Tell the truth. Or tell enough truth to make it believable but still mostly lie. Of her three brothers, Sawyer was the most insightful one. Just like he had noticed something between Morgan and River, he would also be the most likely to know she wasn’t being honest with him.

  “We met back in college,” she said. “I hadn’t seen him in years and didn’t know he was involved with this year’s project, so it was a surprise.” There. Just enough truth, but all the salacious details were missing.

  “Did you guys date back then or something?” Sawyer was reading between the lines, as she’d feared. “I noticed he looked at you with more than a casual appreciation in his eyes.”

  “I looked good that night,” Morgan said in a conceitedly confident tone. “But yes, we did date. Briefly. Nothing came of it. You know Dad wouldn’t have allowed it.”

  Sawyer nodded. While he didn’t have the same pressures put on him as Morgan did as the only daughter, he still pursued romance cautiously. All the young Steeles had social-climbing targets on their backs. Sawyer and Tom fought off most of their obvious pursuers, unlike Finn, who jumped into the Charleston dating pool feet first.

  “And what about now?” He leaned forward to grab the container of cookies and peeled off the lid. “Snickerdoodles,” he groaned, and inhaled the addictive scent of cinnamon and butter.

  Morgan reached out to take one. “What do you mean?” she asked cautiously.

  “Oh, come on. There’s still something there. You guys went out for a drink. Do you think anything is going to come of it? I mean, you’re a grown woman now. You don’t have to worry about what Dad thinks of your relationships anymore.”

  Morgan wasn’t entirely sure that was true, at least in her case, but it was an interesting thought. A lot had changed in her life since the day her father hauled her out of her honeymoon cabin. While she didn’t entirely trust River’s motivations—this could still all be about money for him, then and now—she could protect herself by knowing that going in.

  “I don’t know what it is, Sawyer. Probably nothing more than a little reminiscing. Or maybe he’s just looking for his second shot at landing the Steele heiress.”

  “On a point of technicality, you aren’t the Steele heiress anymore.”

  Morgan frowned at him. “Am I being disinherited without my knowledge?”

  “No, of course not. You know our parents would never even think of such a thing. I meant that with everything that has come to light lately, perhaps you should shake off the mantle of heiress and do what you want with your life for a change. You hold back. You always have. And I get it. Dad watches you closer than any of us. But you’re about to turn thirty. You need to stop worrying about what other people think—especially Dad—and live your life.”

  Morgan and Sawyer rarely had time to sit and have real discussions without the rest of the family around. Without Finn to make a joke or Tom changing the subject when things got heavy or unco
mfortable, there was nothing for her to do but seriously think about what her brother had said.

  And he was right. She didn’t have to be the perfect Steele daughter any longer. Maybe she could try living her life for a while as Morgan Nolan and see how that worked out.

  There was a lot of history between Morgan and River. More than anyone, even River, knew about. A lot of reasons why opening up this Pandora’s box was a bad idea. And yet, all the original reasons why she couldn’t have River were off the table now. And despite how much she didn’t want to be attracted to him, she couldn’t help herself. There was something there—something Morgan couldn’t fight—that drew her to him. And the more time she spent with him, the worse it got. He was a good guy, contrary to the villain her father had painted him to be. Maybe she’d been wrong this whole time.

  “I’m not saying you run off and marry the guy,” Sawyer continued, “but what can it hurt to indulge a little? You’re both adults. You’re attracted to one another. Take the proper precautions and do what you want to do. It’s time to live your own life, Morgan.”

  She had never expected to have this kind of realization tonight, especially with her brother’s help, but he was right. Regardless of who her parents were or how she’d been raised, she was an adult now. This was Morgan’s life and she was going to live it.

  Five

  River was pleased with himself. He tried not to be too arrogant, but there were two things he knew better than anything else—construction and Morgan. Since finding a place for her to live combined both those skill sets, he was pretty confident that she would love what he showed her.

  He was right.

  That’s why he’d suggested that instead of meeting in the office today, they should come here to his latest property instead. He had called that morning to let her know their offer had been accepted on the downtown land purchase. Everything was being finalized. He just needed her to sign a few things before they broke ground and got started building the houses.