The Father of Her Son. Kathleen Pickering

her.

      She lowered her voice, grateful that the immediate seats surrounding Doyle at the counter had been vacated. “So you want to know if I was assaulted by the senator. Is that correct?”

      “It’s the reason I am here, but now that I’ve had your food, I’ll come back for sure.”

      “I have another question for you.”

      He drained his coffee mug as if they chatted about the weather. His nonchalance was not lost on Kelly. Actually, it made her blood steam that this man could so blithely discuss female degradation while obviously enjoying his meal.

      He placed the cup on the counter as if he’d take a refill. Kelly ignored the gesture.

      He asked, “What’s your question?”

      Instead of pouring, she placed the coffeepot she was holding on the counter between them. “Did Campbell’s assistant approach you or did you approach her?”

      “Does it matter?”

      Kelly let a grin play across her lips. “Motive means everything to me, Mr. Doyle. I’m simply wondering if you really care about this woman’s story or if you’ve been tapped to do a witch hunt by Campbell’s opposing party.”

      The man looked decidedly uncomfortable.

      When he didn’t answer, she knew. Politics could be such a dirty business. A rising star under attack by his opponents certainly seemed to be the American model during election years. Only this time, Buzz Campbell’s enemies were right on target. The knowledge that Campbell had taken liberties with other women seeped like acid between her ribs, burning her lungs and making her want to cry, all over again. Under any other circumstance, Kelly would have led the cause against the senator—in a heartbeat. Only, now she had a son to protect. Her own shame and/or vindication no longer mattered. Matt’s anonymity did. God forbid Campbell learned he’d fathered a son. From the three years she spent caring for his daughters, Kelly knew he’d always wanted a boy. The thought made her want to vomit. Having to battle Buzz Campbell for custody of a child born from his assault would ruin Kelly.

      She hated to use the word rape. The sound alone slashed her soul like a razor. She’d made a life—a good life—despite the horror of that night and found love for her child like she’d never known. Nothing. Absolutely nothing would destroy the safe and secret world she and Herby, bless his unknowing soul, had created to protect her and Matt from this very moment.

      Kelly leaned forward, offering her most conspiratorial voice. “I will tell you how it goes, Mr. Doyle, but please do not repeat it, as my actions are most embarrassing to me. Yes, I was that nanny. Lovely family. Beautiful children, Emily and Mary Kate. But it didn’t take me long to realize that I had chosen the wrong career. Caring for someone else’s children out in the wilds of Long Island with nary a friend or foe to confide in was more than I could handle. I was desperately lonely. So, I quit. Unfortunately, I left without notice. My actions were not professional. I’m not proud of the fact. For that reason, I prefer that my past ties to the Campbells remain confidential. Can you understand that?”

      “You’re saying Campbell’s kids were difficult, spoiled brats?”

      It was easy to become insulted at that remark. Kelly had loved those two young girls like her own. She had developed an affection for their mother, as well. Indignation laced her words. “Absolutely not, Mr. Doyle. You must not have heard me say that they were lovely children.”

      She leaned closer, tapping her finger on the granite inches from his hand to emphasize her point. “It’s important that you understand me very clearly, Mr. Doyle. Given my abrupt departure from the children in my care, it would be nothing but an embarrassment for me. An embarrassment which if advertised could harm my business. I can only hope that after almost seven years, the Campbells hold no complaint against me. If you’re looking for a witch hunt, you’ve come to the wrong place. I have nothing to offer you. You’ll have to look elsewhere for a victim.”

      She had moved so close to him in order to tell her story only to him that he looked as if he had gotten lost in her eyes. For once in a very long time, she was glad for her charm.

      “Um...I understand. But why would this assistant name you as one of the senator’s targets?”

      “Given the time you are citing, I assume you are referring to Helen Thompson.” When he didn’t answer, Kelly shrugged. “We knew each other. She’d been to the house several times. I remember she was very loyal to Mr. Campbell. If he did indeed assault her, I can only imagine she’s feeling betrayed as well as violated. I can understand why she would look for collaboration to support her accusation. I’m sorry, Mr. Doyle. I can’t help her or you in this inquiry. But I would appreciate it if you remained discreet about my ties to the Campbells. Now that I understand how devastated I had left Mrs. Campbell, I’d hate to be held accountable for my immaturity. Would you like more coffee?”

      That seemed to finish the interview. Knees quaking, Kelly paid little more attention other than a friendly wave as Jay Doyle paid his bill and exited Neverland. She cleared tables, using all her strength to keep her hands from trembling while sending a silent prayer skyward. Holy Saint Michael, she prayed that was the last she’d see of the Sentinel reporter.

      Shoot. Shoot. Shoot. It was bad enough he had been seated in Evan’s favorite stool at the counter. It seemed like a violation of sacred space. Worse, Doyle had hit the truth from which she had carefully erased all connection for so long. She had performed a most uncomfortable two-step to make that man go away but she’d managed. And not one word had been false. Now that he was gone, the urge to throw up what remained of breakfast had her choking back bile.

      She filled a glass with cola and sipped slowly to get her wits about her. A turbine of disquiet buzzed in her head. There was no one to whom she could confide her distress, which was rapidly growing into terror that this man would return. She took a moment to absorb the activity and sounds in Neverland. The hum of conversations. Clanking plates and the sizzling grill. The smell of coffee. The ever-present newscasters of NCTV on the screen. The patrons and workers who had become her friends. The city bustling past the windows outside the diner. She released a sigh. Neverland was reality now. The sludge Jay Doyle was trying to unearth was the past. A difficult lesson learned, but most certainly history. All was well in Neverland. Nothing else mattered.

      She looked up to see Evan entering the diner with his boss, his gaze seeking her out. With a single glance at her, concern rose in Evan’s eyes. Damn her nerves. He’d read her distress before she had a chance to hide it.

      CHAPTER FOUR

      STEVE FIORE RUBBED his hands together. “Smells like Friday in here, Kelly. How about serving us up two of Jake’s specials?”

      Steve’s eagerness and his genuinely affable nature helped Kelly shake away her dread. Besides, she’d handled Jay Doyle. There was no need to give his interrogation any further attention. The smile that creased her mouth drained her tension.

      “Nothing would please me more, Steve.” She gestured to the stool next to Evan’s—which he now occupied, his gaze still on her. “Care to sit next to our star patron? I must warn you, he’ll chatter your ear to bending.”

      Evan shook his head. “A man does not chatter, Red. We discuss matters.”

      Steve was studying Evan’s name stenciled on the floor beneath the stool. He gestured to the floor below his own seat. “Where’s mine?”

      She laughed. “You need your own TV show and must eat here every day to earn that honor.”

      Steve looked baffled. “But, Evan wouldn’t have his own show if it wasn’t for me.”

      Kelly slapped the counter. “Of course. You’re right. If you are happy with that perch, I’ll stencil your name there tonight.”

      Satisfied, Steve sat. “I’ll get a gold star, as well?”

      “Sure, Steve, but you’ll have to earn your place on the Wall