If We Never Met by Barbara Freethy

Chapter Six

Keira didn't geta chance to dig into Mark Langley's life until Sunday afternoon. But after helping her mom in the garden until one, she took her computer and a tall glass of iced tea out to the pool patio. She sat down at a table under an umbrella to keep the hot summer sun off her face and then opened up her search engine. Twenty minutes later, she was frowning at her lack of success.

Mark wasn't on social media. However, she was able to come up with a business profile. He'd started out in pharmaceutical sales and then worked his way into healthcare administration, working at a number of small clinics and hospitals before moving to Whisper Lake.

But the information she wanted was much more personal. She thought about what she did know. Her mom had said his first wife's name was Valerie. And he had a son, Richard, who lived in Los Angeles and was studying to be a veterinarian.

Tapping those details into the search engine didn't yield better results. She couldn't find a Valerie Langley online. It was possible she was using her maiden name or perhaps she'd remarried. There were a dozen or more results for Richard Langley, but none that seemed to be the right age.

She thought about what to do next. There were sites she could pay to do research for her. Was she ready to go that far? Not quite yet.

She opened a new search window and put in Mark and Valerie Langley, as well as the city of Los Angeles. She flipped through several screens, nothing popping out until her gaze settled on a news article about a house fire in the Los Feliz area. A twenty-six-year-old woman named Gretchen Yates had died in the fire. The house was owned by Mark and Valerie Langley, who were not at home at the time. Nor was their nine-year-old son, Richard. Gretchen Yates had been their nanny.

Her heart sped up as she thought about what she'd just read. Did it mean anything? Her mother had told her that Mark and his wife divorced when their son was nine. Was it a coincidence that the two events had happened the same year? Or was she trying to make something out of nothing?

She thought for a moment and then entered the name Gretchen Yates. She had to add in several more keywords before finally locating the obituary. Gretchen had been survived by her parents, Rena and Stan, her brother, Donald, and her sister, Amanda. Her pulse jumped again.

Was Amanda—Mandy—the woman who'd called Mark? Why would they have a connection now, fifteen years after Gretchen's death?

Her imagination started working overtime, coming up with all kinds of implausible theories. She tried to rein herself in. She really didn't know anything except there had been a fire in Mark's house, a woman had died, and that woman's sister might still be in touch with him. Maybe he'd simply been taking care of Gretchen's family since then. He could be the amazing man her mother wanted him to be.

As a series of texts popped up on her screen about the party at Lizzie's inn, she realized she needed to put Mark Langley aside for the moment. Lizzie needed someone to pick up a special cake she'd ordered while she waited for someone to fix the cable TV at the inn. She was freaking out that they wouldn't be able to get reception for the awards show.

Chloe, who was supposed to be bringing a case of wine and a lasagna, said that her almost-three-year-old son, Leo, had just come down with a fever, so she wasn't going to be able to come at all, and if someone could pick up the wine and lasagna, that would be amazing.

Gianna texted that she was leaving for Denver, so she and Zach might be late. And Hannah said she was stuck at work until five and the bakery would be closed by the time she got off.

She volunteered to pick up the wine, lasagna, and the cake. Her friends had always been there for her, and she'd always be there for them.

She took her computer back into the house. Her mom was washing her hands in the kitchen. "I need to help Lizzie for tonight's party," she said. "Do you need anything?"

"No, I'm fine. I'm just going to read this afternoon. I have a new novel I'm itching to start."

"That's good. Have you heard from Mr. Langley again?"

Her mother smiled. "I told you to call him Mark. And, yes, he texted me earlier. He asked me to go to dinner at the Lakeshore Bistro tonight."

"And you agreed." She didn't even bother to make it a question.

"Of course. I love the Lakeshore Bistro. And you're busy tonight, anyway."

"What time are you going?"

"Six. I'll be home by eight. You really don't have to worry, Keira."

She didn't have to, but she still would. However, she couldn't skip the party, nor could she talk her mother out of going to dinner, not without some solid ammunition. Right now, all she had was a lot of speculation.

"Is that handsome man going to be at the party?" her mother asked.

She'd been trying not to think about Dante, but her mom's question put his very attractive face back in her head. "Lizzie invited everyone at the inn, so there's a chance he'll be there. But I told you, he has a girlfriend."

"When I first met your dad, he had a girlfriend. Until someone is married, anything can happen."

"Not if I don't let it. Besides the fact that he's involved with someone, he's just passing through, Mom. A few weeks, and he'll be gone."

Her mom sighed. "That's too bad."

She couldn't agree more. She also couldn't help but hope he'd show up at the party.

Dante tried to read. He'd picked up a book downstairs from Lizzie's extensive library, but it didn't hold his attention. Putting it down, he picked up the remote and turned the TV on, surprised and happy when it worked. He'd seen Lizzie running frantically around the inn with two guys from the cable company, panicked that the cable wouldn't be back before her party, but it was fixed with an hour to spare. He flipped through the channels, not really interested in anything. He didn't feel like starting a movie, and he was staying away from sports, especially baseball games.

It sometimes killed him not to know what was happening with his team, but he thought it would frustrate him even more if he did know. If they were doing great without him, he'd be happy, but it would make him wonder how valuable he really was. If they were bombing, he'd want to get back so he could help his team. Keeping that information out of his head seemed like the best idea.

He turned off the TV, got off the bed, and walked to the window. His room overlooked the patio, and he could see several guests sitting at a table, sipping cocktails. He recognized two of the older women as being guests at the inn, but the two other younger couples he didn't know. Probably Lizzie's friends.

He still didn't know what to do about the party. He had nothing else going on, and he was hungry. He also wouldn't mind having a drink. But he'd have to talk to people, some of whom might recognize him and ask him questions he didn't want to answer. Of course, none of that concerned him as much as seeing Keira again.

They'd agreed to be friends, which was the best decision for a lot of reasons. Unfortunately, the idea of just being her friend wasn't appealing. He was attracted to her. He'd felt it since the first second she'd sat down at his table, and he felt it even more now that he'd gotten to know her. She was outgoing and friendly and had a dry, self-deprecating sense of humor. She didn't seem to take herself too seriously, and he liked that. He also liked how protective she was of her mom.

He wondered if she'd discovered anything new when she'd met with Langley yesterday. The guy seemed nice enough. He'd passed him in the hall earlier and exchanged greetings. They were the only two rooms on the third floor, so he had a feeling they'd be seeing each other a lot.

Turning away from the window, he knew he had two options. He could go into town and find a restaurant and eat alone, or he could join the crowd downstairs. One good thing about staying in was the opportunity to avoid the press. He hadn't seen anyone since Friday night, so it was possible they didn't know where he was staying yet. He had used a credit card attached to a corporation, so his name wasn't on the register, but this was a small town. He doubted his anonymity would last long. Maybe he'd at least check out the party, get the vibe. If it was uncomfortable, he could always leave.

He grabbed his keycard and phone, slipped them into the pocket of his jeans and headed downstairs. The laughter and chatter hit him as soon as he reached the foyer. When he walked into the living room, he saw that Lizzie had rearranged the room so that all the couches and chairs faced a large-screen TV. The bar in the corner was quite busy with Lizzie's fiancé, Justin Blackwood, pouring margaritas. In the adjacent dining room, two long tables had been set for a buffet while another six round tables were covered with linen cloths with flower centerpieces.

There were probably two dozen people mingling between the rooms, but while a few he recognized as being guests at the inn, he didn't see Mark Langley. Nor did he see Keira.

He headed to the bar. When he reached the front of the line, Justin gave him a smile.

"Margarita, wine, beer? What's your pleasure?" Justin asked.

"I'll take a margarita. It looks like that's the drink of the day."

"It is, and I make a good one. Don't tell Lizzie how strong they are," Justin added with a laugh.

Justin was a tall, good-looking guy with a dark-blue gaze that sparkled with amusement. From what Lizzie had told him about her fiancé, he knew Justin ran a huge company, specializing in robotics. Apparently, after falling in love with Lizzie, he'd decided to set up a field office in town so that Lizzie could continue managing her inn. The sacrifice was impressive. He didn't know a lot of guys who would move for a woman, although he certainly knew a lot of women who had moved to follow their men all over the country, from the minor leagues to the majors, and city to city.

Justin handed him a margarita. "Let me know what you think."

He got a strong taste of tequila. "Very good. I like your pour."

Justin leaned in, lowering his voice. "It will make watching an awards show a lot more fun."

He smiled. "Sounds like we're on the same page."

"Most of the guys here are on that page, not that we don't love Chelsea. Lizzie's sister is a sweetheart and so talented. Her voice can give you chills. I love watching her perform, and I really hope she wins the award she's up for. It would show that she's officially made her comeback."

"Comeback?" he queried.

"She quit music for several years. It's a long story. But she's back, and her talent is more impressive than ever."

"I'll have to listen to one of her songs."

"She sings a mix of country and pop. She's on all the platforms."

"I'll check her out."

"Check who out?" Lizzie asked, interrupting their conversation. "Hello, Dante. I'm so glad you decided to join us."

"I could smell the food upstairs."

"That's how I lure people down," she said with a laugh. "So, who are you checking out?"

"Your sister. Justin said I should listen to one of her songs."

"Oh, you should. She's amazing."

"Do you sing as well?"

"Only in the shower. How are the margaritas? They're not too strong, are they?"

"Perfect," he said, catching Justin's small smile.

"Great," Lizzie returned. "We're going to open the buffet in a few minutes. And I hope you'll stay for the show, too. I haven't had a chance to show you much hospitality yet."

"Not true."

"I promised Grayson you would be well taken care of, so while I know you're in town for serious reasons, I want to make sure you also have some fun."

"Don't fight it," Justin told him, as Lizzie moved away to speak to another group of guests. "Lizzie is a force of nature. If she wants to entertain you, then you will be entertained."

"I'm beginning to realize that."

"She thinks of every guest as family. When I first came here, I thought she was over the top when it came to events, but I soon realized that what she does is what makes this place special."

"I have to admit I've never stayed at an inn before."

"It wasn't my thing, either. But my grandparents held their fifty-seventh wedding anniversary vow renewal here. I came and met Lizzie, and the rest is history. I never expected my life to go this way, but I'm thankful it did." Justin paused as another couple stepped up to the bar. "What can I get you?"

As Justin poured more margaritas, Dante moved away from the bar, thinking that he'd never expected his life to go this way, either, but he didn't feel thankful. He was frustrated and restless to get back to normal. But normal seemed very far away.

As he headed into the dining room, he saw Keira set down a large sheet cake at the end of the buffet table, and his heart jumped. She looked beautiful in dark jeans, and a gauzy top that fell off her shoulders. Her face was a little flushed when she stepped back to admire the cake. When she looked up, she caught his gaze, and her eyes sparkled as a smile spread across her lips.

His gut clenched. Damn! He hadn't reacted like this to a woman in a long time. And she wasn't even trying to get his attention. In fact, she'd made it clear she wouldn't try, because he was attached.

And he was still attached. His tentative suggestion that he and Nikki take a break had gone nowhere. Now he wished he pushed the issue, because Nikki was turning into a shadowy figure he could barely remember while Keira was a bright light that he couldn't see past.

Keira came over to join him. "Hi," she said softly.

"Hi," he echoed, as they exchanged a long look that sent blood racing through his body.

She licked her lips. "What did you do today? More rehab?"

"No, I walked around town. I went through the park and down to the lake. The beach was fairly crowded."

"Wait another week and you'll barely be able to put a towel down. Fourth of July is a big holiday. You'll still be here then, won't you?"

"I think so. We'll see how things go."

"It's a good time to be at the lake. The weather is great. The water is getting warmer every day. And there are lots of activities going on all over town."

"It sounds like people do nothing but party around here."

"The vacationers do nothing but party. As for the locals, we still work a lot. However, it was a long, cold winter, and now that it's summer, everyone wants to be outside, celebrating."

Summer had always been his favorite time of the year, but that's when he'd been playing baseball. There had been nothing better than a Saturday or Sunday day game, except maybe a double-header. But he didn't want to think about that right now. "What did you do today?"

"A little digging and not only in the garden. I finally got online and looked up Mr. Langley."

He saw the gleam in her eyes. "Did you find something?"

"Yes. I'm not sure what it means or if it changes anything, but it was a little odd." She looked around, but no one was paying them any attention.

"If you're looking for Langley, I haven't seen him," he told her.

"He's probably on his way to my house. He's taking my mother out for dinner."

"If you found some dirt on him, why is your mother still going out with him?"

"I didn't tell her yet. It's not solid. She'd tell me to butt out, and I can't do that."

He had to admit he was a little curious. "Okay, so what did you find out?"

"There was an article in an LA newspaper where Langley used to live. Fifteen years ago, his house burned down, and his nanny died in the fire."

He stared at her, surprised by her words. He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but it wasn't that. "That's sad."

"It is. Langley's son was nine at the time. My mom told me that Mark divorced his wife when his son was nine. It happened the same year."

"Okay. What does it mean?"

"I'm not sure. There's something else. When I was talking to Mark in his office yesterday, he asked his assistant to hold his calls. But his assistant came in a few minutes later with an urgent call from a woman, who she claimed was hysterical. As I left the room, I heard Mark say, 'Mandy, why are you calling me here?' He paused to hear something she said, and then he replied, 'This stops now.' He was definitely angry."

"Okay, but we don't know who this Mandy is."

"Here's something else that's odd. The woman who died in the fire was survived by her sister, Amanda. I'm thinking Mandy could be this Amanda. What do you think?"

He couldn't help but smile. "You have a big imagination, don't you?"

"Maybe, but I'm not imagining what I just told you."

"No, but you're taking a lot of small clues and putting them together in a way that sounds sinister. Mandy might not be the same woman. And the fire… Was Mark there? Did he set it?"

"The article said Mark, his wife, and child were out of town when it happened."

"Then he was a victim."

"That's true. I know I could be putting the puzzle together incorrectly, but there's something odd about the story and about his phone call. Even putting the fire aside, I'd like to know who Mandy is and what kind of relationship she has with Mark, because he was definitely angry that she called him. I need to do more research."

"You do," he agreed. "Try not to look at everything through suspicious eyes."

"I can't promise that." She gave a helpless shrug. "I feel how I feel, and that won't change until Mark proves himself in some way or I find information that leads me to believe he's a perfectly harmless old high school boyfriend who just happened to end up in the same town as my mom."

While a part of him thought that Keira was making something out of nothing, he was also impressed with how much she cared, how far she was willing to go to protect someone she cared about. He liked the fierceness of her loyalty and her love. It was kind of strange, but in some ways, she reminded him a little of his mom. His mother had always been on top of everything that they were doing, what was happening in school, who their friends were, what they were thinking. He'd hated her constant questions when she was alive, but after she'd died, he'd missed that, especially when his father's interest in his thoughts or whereabouts was basically nonexistent.

"Dante?" she questioned. "What are you thinking?"

Before he could answer, they were interrupted by an attractive woman with hair the color of a dark-red flame. With her was a tall, athletically built guy with brown hair.

"Hello," the woman said, giving him a speculative look, before extending her hand. "I'm Hannah, one of Keira's best friends. And you are?"

"Dante," he said, shaking her hand.

"And this is my fiancé, Jake," Hannah added. "I have to confess that we know who you are. Your presence is all over town. There were reporters in the Blue Sky Café this morning asking where you were staying."

"Great," he muttered.

"I don't think anyone said you were staying here. Actually, I didn't even know you were staying here. Lizzie didn't share that."

"She has been very discreet."

"I didn't really recognize your name," Hannah added, "but Jake practically had a heart attack."

"Uh, I wasn't that bad," Jake said. "She's exaggerating."

"He's lying," Hannah said with a laugh. "Jake knows a lot about your stats. He bored me with quite a few on the way over here."

"But I won't bore you with what you already know," Jake said, shaking hands with him. "Sorry about your injury. That's rough."

"Thanks." The word came out short and sharp. He knew he'd been too abrupt, but he didn't know what to say next. He'd let down his guard while he'd been talking to Keira, and now he was caught between his past and his present.

"We should eat," Keira said, jumping into the awkward silence. "We can talk more over dinner." Keira grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the buffet table.

He was surprised by the sudden heat of her fingers wrapping around his. She was clearly an affectionate person. He hadn't grown up in a family where people held hands or hugged when they saw each other. Maybe his parents had been like that before his mom died, but since then, he and his brothers and his dad had more of a slap-you-on-the-back kind of relationship, and even that was a rare occurrence.

She let go of his hand when she handed him a plate. As she met his gaze, a warm flush crept up her cheeks. "Sorry. I shouldn't have grabbed you like that."

"You got us to the front of the line; I'm good with that," he said lightly, as he spooned some salad onto a plate.

"You looked like a deer in the headlights when Hannah and Jake recognized you. I'm surprised you're not more used to it."

"I am used to it, but it was a lot easier when I…" He didn't know how to explain it to her.

"When you were on top," she said softly.

He met her gaze. "When I knew who I was." He regretted his words almost immediately. They were too personal. They were too honest. He'd revealed too much. But there was something about Keira's warm gaze that broke down his defenses.

"I understand."

"How could you?"

"Because I can," she said simply. "You don't have to worry. I won't tell anyone your secret."

He wanted to believe she understood. He wanted to believe she'd keep his secrets. But he'd been let down many times in the past. Trusting someone wasn't a risk he could afford.

However, he didn't need to trust her. He just needed to keep his mouth shut.