Free Fortunate Harbor by Emilie Richards Page B

phenomenon, a woman who sent prosecutors running to jobs in private law firms, just to avoid facing her.
    What he hadn’t told her was that Sylvia the shark was also Sylvia the temptress.
    “So, you’re Bay’s mother,” Tracy said. “I’m Tracy Deloche. I know Bay from the recreation center.”
    Sylvia looked blank, as if she couldn’t imagine how that had anything to do with her.
    “I was in charge of his program last summer,” Tracy elaborated. “We got to be good friends.”
    “Oh, right. His little youth camp. I think he told me about it.”
    Tracy felt a flash of anger on behalf of the little boy. Bay had been enrolled for the entire summer. Of course he had told Sylvia about it. What else did a nine-year-old talk about except the things he did every day?
    “Are you here to talk to Marsh about Bay?” Sylvia asked. “Because I can certainly relay the message. We share everything and always have.”
    Tracy schooled her jaw not to drop. Sylvia had just declared war, woman to woman. Tracy might not understand everything about the world, but she’d learned those dynamics in preschool.
    “No, it was more personal than that.” She sent Sylvia her most enigmatic smile. “And not something he’d want me to share with you.”
    Sylvia was well armed, but she wasn’t impervious. Tracy’s salvo hit home. Tracy could see it in the narrowing of the other woman’s pupils. “I’m sorry your little tête-à-tête will have to wait, Daisy, but I’ll be sure to tell Marsh you stopped by.”
    Tracy didn’t correct the name. This was probably a trick Sylvia had learned in court, a guaranteed route to make a witness feel inconsequential.
    “Oh, don’t bother,” she said, as if she really didn’t want to disturb the other woman. “I have his private line at work. I’ll just give him a buzz. I know he’ll be interested we finally met.”
    “Finally?”
    “Yes. More or less historic, wouldn’t you say? The woman from his past and the woman from his future.”
    “You toss beanbags with nine-year-olds and tell fortunes, too?”
    “Lawyers aren’t the only people who can put facts togetherand draw conclusions.” Tracy glanced at her watch. “As fascinating as this has been, gotta go. Give Bay a hug for me.”
    She told herself not to say it. She told herself to bite her tongue, but unfortunately, she didn’t listen. “If you’ve finally learned how to hug him, that is.”
    Then, angry at herself for stooping so low that she’d use a little boy as ammunition, she took the fastest route to the screen door, took the steps two at a time and started toward her car.
    She was heading down the driveway when Marsh emerged from the house. He was alone. Maybe Sylvia was inside hugging Bay. Maybe by the time Marsh went back inside, Sylvia would have hugged him so hard the kid would need CPR. Tracy considered sailing right past, but she’d already chalked up one immature act for the day, and it wasn’t even 8:00 a.m.
    She stopped beside him and rolled down her window, leaning over the empty seat. “Lovely morning,” she said sweetly. “I hope Sylvia made you a big pot of coffee.”
    “Turn off the engine and get out, okay?”
    She considered. Maybe, just this once, she could allow herself two immature acts before breakfast. Everybody needed a break from routine. In the end, though, she got out and walked around the car, leaning against the passenger door with her arms folded.
    “You never told me how stunning she is,” she said.
    “I know how this looks.”
    “Good. Because finding the words might take me most of the day.”
    “She showed up yesterday morning. Just like that. Seems she lost a big case, something she and her firm were sure she was going to win. She’s devastated.”
    “So you gave her solace and a place to stay.”
    “I wouldn’t have given her anything , but we share a kid, remember? And you know how much Bay misses her. Could you see me explaining that I don’t want his mother