A Dad At Last. Marie Ferrarella

words were meant to shame Janelle, they fell far short of their mark. Instead, she laughed, amused. “Damn straight I am—and proud of it. What did being a Goody Two-shoes ever get anyone?”

      Lacy rose to her feet and crossed to the door. There was no anger, no hatred any longer. There was only abject pity in her eyes as she looked at Janelle. Instead of trying to make something of herself, she’d destroyed lives and created a wretched future for herself, all because she’d been consumed with envy.

      “Peace of mind,” Lacy answered quietly. She rapped on the door, then stepped back as it was opened. “I’m ready to go now.”

      “Go ahead, go,” Janelle scoffed, waving her away. “But you’ll be back. You’ll come crawling back, begging me to tell you. Wait and see if you don’t,” Janelle called after her before the door closed, sealing her in a world she’d never foreseen for herself.

      AS SHE DROVE away from the jail, her mind in turmoil, Lacy’s first thought was to go to Connor with what she’d just discovered.

      But he’d been so distant since last night. Would he think she was making it all up for some purpose of her own? Not that she could entirely blame him. After being exposed to the likes of Janelle, Connor probably held everything suspect. He might not believe what she had to tell him, especially since she hadn’t told him about his son.

      But that was exactly why he should believe her, she argued silently. The very fact that she hadn’t told him he had a son should prove that she wasn’t out for anything, certainly not her own personal gain.

      She needed proof before she went to Connor.

      Lacy realized that the light had turned green and there were cars behind her, waiting to go. The one directly behind her beeped. She pressed down on the gas pedal.

      What had Janelle meant when she’d implied that Connor wasn’t who he seemed to be? Was there a germ of truth in that, or was Janelle just trying to mess up her mind?

      Probably the latter.

      But she couldn’t quite put her mind to rest on the subject.

      Lacy blew out a breath. Glancing at the street sign on the corner, she made a decision. At the end of the block, she made a U-turn. Before she let her imagination get the better of her and gave Janelle’s rantings any credence, she wanted to have a few things cleared up. But for that, she was going to need some help.

      And she knew just who to go to.

      “YOU’RE ASKING ME to give away my secrets?” Chelsea asked, half in jest.

      “Not all of them,” Lacy clarified, not sure if she’d offended Chelsea. She hardly knew the woman, and this probably seemed like an imposition. “I just need to know where to find some information. I need to have something substantiated.” Chelsea had, until recently, worked for the tabloid television show “Tattle Today TV.” Lacy was certain that if anyone would know where to find old records, it would be Chelsea.

      Chelsea slipped her arm around the other woman’s shoulders, drawing her into the cozy living room of Max Jamison’s house. The TV reporter and private investigator had finally acknowledged their love for each other after a year of being each other’s worst enemies.

      “I’m teasing, Lacy,” Chelsea said. “You have to lighten up a little, although Lord knows you’ve had more than your share to deal with lately. Sure, I’ll help. Just what is it you need to know?”

      She led Lacy to a room just down the hall. Inside Lacy could see a desk with a laptop computer on it. The screen was turned on. “Is there somewhere on the Internet I can look up marriage licenses and birth records?”

      And here she’d thought Lacy was going to ask something difficult. Chelsea almost felt cheated of a challenge. “Provided they’re available, sure.” She led her into the room Max used as an office. “Got a name?”

      “Yes,” Lucy said, entering behind her.

      “State?” Standing to the side of the desk, Chelsea turned to look at Lacy. “Or better yet, a city?”

      “Yes.” But what if Janelle had been lying about where she was from? “At least, I think so.”

      “Great, then you’re in business.” Leaning over the computer, Chelsea pressed a few buttons, hooking up to the Internet. A tinny voice announced that she had mail. Chelsea grinned. “You know, in a few years, we’re probably going to be able to walk up to this little box and say, ‘Computer, access birth records from—’” She looked at Lacy.

      “Las Vegas.”

      Curiosity began to unfurl within her, but Chelsea held it in check. “Las Vegas and, wham, it’ll all be there, right at your fingertips.” She gestured at the screen. “Who would have ever thought that Gene Rodenberry was a visionary?”

      Lacy looked at her blankly. “Who?”

      Chelsea’s expression was incredulous. “My God, girl, don’t tell me you’ve never seen an episode of Star Trek? That’s almost un-American.”

      Concerned with the import of what she might have learned, Lacy knew her mind was a million miles away. She flushed. “Oh, right. The producer. Sorry, I guess I’m a little preoccupied at the moment.”

      With what? Chelsea wondered. “No problem, I understand.” She cleared away a few papers, then stepped back, letting Lacy sit down at the desk. “Now, want me to hover around as a consultant, or do you want to do this in private?”

      Lacy bit her lower lip, hesitating. This was Chelsea’s laptop. She couldn’t very well tell her to go away. On the other hand, she didn’t want to have to be in a position to deal with questions before she was sure she had the right answers. “I—”

      Chelsea had gone far in her field because of her acute ability to read a person’s body language and subtle shifts in mood. She saw her answer in Lacy’s eyes.

      “Gotcha.” She smiled. “I’m into privacy a lot more since I’ve left ‘Tattle Today.’” Moving in closer for a second, she typed something on the upper portion of the screen, then stepped aside again. “Okay, there’s the Web address. Have fun.”

      Chelsea left and closed the door behind her, consumed with curiosity but bound by her word. Sometimes, she mused, being honorable had its drawbacks.

      MEGAN COULDN’T help herself. Having finished dressing for dinner, she stopped by Lacy’s room and rapped lightly before peeking in.

      What she saw warmed her heart. The inner loveliness she’d been aware of since the first moment she’d met Lacy was most definitely shining through.

      “You certainly are a knockout.” Circling the other woman slowly, Megan nodded. “I knew that dress was perfect for you the second we saw it in the store window.”

      Pleased, Lacy ran her hands over the skirt of the sheath she was wearing. The amount on the price tag she’d glimpsed while trying it on in the store was more than her entire wardrobe had cost back when she’d worked as a cook for Connor and his mother on their ranch.

      But Megan had insisted on buying it for her, and Lacy couldn’t seem to make herself resist. She had already turned down Megan’s generosity several times. It was one thing for the woman to buy clothes for her grandnephew, but Lacy knew she wasn’t anything to the family. Just a woman caught up in things, nothing more.

      Still, the gesture touched her heart, just as the dress had won it.

      Beaming, Lacy turned to catch a glimpse of herself in the mirror. The deep green sheath was beautiful. “I’ll pay you back as soon as I can.”

      “Don’t you dare,” Megan warned sternly. “I’ll be extremely hurt if you do, Lacy. One of the nice things about having money is that I get to spend it the way I want on the people I want. Now stop being difficult and smile, dear. You look positively radiant when you do.” When the shy smile appeared, Megan nodded, pleased.