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“I would say it’s possible.”
“All right, let’s get that window fixed,” Mason intervened as he looked at Catelyn. “While you guys take care of this, Lacey and I will head over to Georgia’s house and see if she will be a little more forthcoming now.”
Catelyn nodded. “I’m going to get Joseph to do some digging into this Austin Howard fellow and see what he’s been up to the last couple of days. I also want to see where he was the night of the car accident.”
Nodding his agreement, Daniel wrote something in his notebook and said, “I’ll check with the lab and see where they are on the car.”
In agreement, they finished up in Bethany’s room then split up to go their separate ways.
Mason was still in the processing stage.
He had a daughter. He really did.
He jerked as he realized he had to tell his family—his dad, sister and his stepmother.
Then winced at the thought of how that would go over.
They’d be furious.
Not at the fact that Bethany existed, but at the fact they hadn’t been able to spoil her rotten for the past fifteen years. His heart thudded. Not to mention that they’d be crushed if Bethany was gone for good, and they never got to meet her.
His father had remarried almost ten years ago, although Mason wondered how he found the courage to trust again after what his mother had done. Grudgingly, as the years passed and he watched the two of them together, he had to admit that his stepmother, Maggie, seemed to be perfect for his father.
Mason’s sister, Carol, had been married for three years and professed she had neither the time nor the desire to have a child that would interfere with her budding acting career.
Which was one reason why she rarely came home. Carol declared she couldn’t stand the subtle comments about her biological clock ticking away and the accompanying sad-eyed looks at her minuscule waist.
He shook his head and almost smiled. Mason would become Carol’s favorite person as soon as he produced Bethany to his parents.
Mason’s smile turned south.
Ifhe produced her.
His fingers gripped the steering wheel. No, there was noifabout it. Hewouldfind her. He had to.
He spun the wheel and pulled onto Georgia’s street. Three houses down he parked in front of a brick ranch with a nicely kept yard. A blue Mustang convertible sat in the drive.
Georgia’s car.
“She’s home.” Lacey’s soft words slammed into him. He’d driven the entire way to Georgia’s house so consumed by his own thoughts he hadn’t opened his mouth to utter a word.
He looked at Lacey. “I’m sorry.”
The soft look in her eyes shook him. She still had that uncanny ability to read him when he dropped his guard enough. She knew what he meant by the apology.
Her fingers reached out to loosen his from the steering wheel. The warmth of her hand seared him as she reassured him. “You don’t have to explain. You’ve got a lot to think about.” Her gaze swung back to the house. “I want to talk to her this time.”
“Lacey…”
Her jaw firmed into a rock that he remembered from their teen years. He might as well keep his arguments to himself. Instead of trying to persuade her to let him do the talking, he simply nodded.
“Fine.”
Lacey raised a brow at him when he still made no move to get out of the car. “What is it?”
“What’s she like? What’s her favorite color? Gold? She had a lot of gold in that room.”
Lacey sighed. “Well, when she was thirteen and in the Goth phase, she was really into black.”
