Free Crime and Passion by Marie Ferrarella Page A

You’re not imposing, girl, you’re keeping us from getting lonely.” He pointedly looked at his son over Alex’s head. “Isn’t that right, Clay?”
    Clay set the suitcase down for a moment. “Whatever you say, Dad.”
    “That’s a first,” Andrew commented, his words directed to the young woman his son had brought to him. “Usually, he likes nothing better than to butt heads with me. You partial to the first or the second floor, Ilene? I’ve got an empty bedroom on each.”
    “First,” she said. It made her feel as if she could leave if she wanted to. Instantly she felt guilty at wanting to flee. The man was putting himself out on her account, and he didn’t even know her.
    She followed him as he led the way to the rear of the house. He was still carrying her son. “You’re being incredibly accommodating.”
    “Hear that, Clay?” Turning to look at his son over his shoulder, Andrew grinned. “I’m accommodating.” There were times when some, if not all, of his children thought of him as pigheaded and stubborn. They’d all tried, at one time or another, to gently talk him into accepting Rose’s death. But he refused. Because he knew she was alive.
    “Sure, Dad.” Clay gave his father a look.
    Andrew shook his head. “Teach your son early on never to talk back.” He shifted the boy in his arms, a smile of appreciation as he did so. Even the simple gesture made it clear that the man ached for a grandchild. “It’s something I overlooked doing. Not that you can teach this one anything.” He frowned in Clay’s direction. “Stubborn as a mule most of the time.”
    She couldn’t help smiling. “I know.”
    “Then you do know each other?” Stopping in front of a doorway, Andrew turned to look at her as he waited for an answer.
    She took a breath before saying quietly, “A very long time ago.”
    Okay, time to get the train back on the track. Clay elbowed his way in between his father and Ilene. “Dad, I didn’t bring Ilene here so you could practice interrogating someone.”
    “Just being friendly, Clay. Something that comes naturally to me if not you.” He walked into one of the two guest rooms. “Here you go. I think you’ll be very comfortable here.” Very gently he placed Alex down in the middle of the bed. “The bathroom’s right through there,” he indicated a door inside the bedroom. “And the kitchen’s just down the hall. Speaking of which, is there anything I can get you?”
    She shook her head. “No, you’ve already been more than kind.”
    “Something warm to drink?” he suggested, then thought of the state her nerves were probably in. “Or maybe something a little stronger to calm your nerves? Just this once,” he tacked on, guessing at the protest rising to her lips.
    Clay knew it was time to come to her rescue before his father started force-feeding her. “Her nerves are fine, Dad.”
    Crossing back to the doorway, Andrew snorted. “Can’t see how that’s possible when she made the trip here with you driving.”
    “Dad—”
    Andrew raised his hands in front of him in mock, grudging surrender. “Backing away.” He cocked his head, looking around his son to his new house guest. “You’ve got the run of the place, Ilene. Feel free to use it.”
    “Thank you.”
    “I’d better let you get some rest,” Clay mumbled, half hoping she’d ask him to remain. But she didn’t, as he knew she wouldn’t, and he withdrew.
    Ilene closed the door behind him.
    “Like her smile,” Andrew said as they walked away from the room. Behind them, they heard her flip the lock. “Pretty girl.”
    “Yes,” Clay agreed. And she’d only gotten more so, he thought. He looked at his father. “Thanks for letting them stay here.”
    Andrew waved away the thanks and began to head for the stairs. “Don’t mention it.” Hand on the banister, he paused. “By the way.”
    Clay raised his eyebrow, waiting. “Yes?”
    “Is the boy yours?”

Chapter 6
    “W hat?”
    Clay