Chapter Ten
That afternoon Andrea realized that Alex had lied to her, maybe not about his feelings but about everything else. The information she'd just heard from her private investigator rang through her head like a clanging church bell at high noon.
"Hang on, Joe," she said, holding the phone away from her ear as she took a much-needed breath.
She stared bleakly out the window of the newsroom. The skyline of San Francisco met her gaze, the tall buildings standing out against a clear blue sky. At the edge of the city a blanket of fog was creeping in, ready to cover the city as day turned into night.
"Andrea, are you there?" Joe demanded. "Andrea?"
She put the phone back to her ear. "Sorry. Tell me again what you just said."
"There are no death records for Rose and Harold Donovan," he repeated. "The last address I have for Rose Donovan was in Los Angeles, California. At that time, Alex was nine years old and enrolled in the fourth grade at Carver Elementary School. The next time Alex appeared in my search was when he was ten years old and a ward of the state."
"He said he was twelve when his parents were killed in a crash."
"There's no record of a fatal car accident in Southern California involving two people with the last name Donovan in the year in which Alex reported his parents' death," Joe reiterated.
"Maybe it didn't happen in California."
"He stated that that’s where they were living when his parents died."
"If that's true, why didn't anyone else discover that Alex lied about his parents' death?"
"They must not have looked too hard," Joe said.
"What about Alex's aunt?"
"Alex went to live with a woman named Suzanne Banks while he was attending Kentmoor High School in Los Angeles. She was listed as his guardian on his high school records, but she was not a blood relation. Rose Donovan did not have a sister. She was an only child."
"Grandparents?"
"The grandparents on Alex's mother's side lived in Nebraska. The grandfather died when Alex was sixteen. The grandmother passed away when Alex was nineteen. But I couldn't find any contact between Alex and his grandparents."
"I wonder why they didn't come and get him when he ended up in foster care."
"A question probably only Alex can answer."
"What about his grandparents on his father's side?"
"Harold Donovan's parents were deceased when he was a child. Harold was a practicing dentist in Los Angeles until Alex was two years old. Then I lost complete track of him. There's no divorce record, no death certification, nothing."
"I don't understand, Joe. How do people just disappear? I thought everyone could be tracked through the Internet. The man lived somewhere at some point."
"I'm sure he did, but I haven't yet figured out where."
She was beginning to wonder just good of an investigator Joe was. He hadn't been able to track down her source on the car seat story, either. "So what's the next step?"
"I'll keep digging if you want."
"I do."
"Then I'll be in touch."
"Thanks." She set down the phone, thinking about what she'd learned. Why hadn't any other reporters found the holes in Alex's story? That was an easy answer—the only articles he had done were celebrity interviews, and they'd been more interested in who he'd slept with than anything else. Was this why he'd been so reticent to talk about his parents? But what did he have to hide? Why make up a lie about a car accident?
Getting up from her chair, she paced restlessly around her small cubicle, a dozen questions running through her head. She tried to remember everything Alex had told her about his parents and realized it amounted to nothing. Now she had a better understanding of why. The less he said, the fewer lies he would have to tell.
Pausing by her desk, she flipped through the clippings she'd collected and skimmed for any mention of his parents. Her gaze caught on one of the quotes. "My father was a dentist," Alex said. "That's why I have such great teeth. He taught me to floss when I was two."
She sat down in her chair, remembering Alex's conversation with his assistant a few days earlier when he'd been reminded to go to the dentist. Ellen had said something about Alex always cancelling dental appointments and that he hated to go to the dentist. That didn't jive with his love of flossing or the fact that his father was a dentist, unless, the fact that his father was a dentist had left some painful memories.
Or was she reading something into a nothing comment?
She had to figure out what Alex was hiding. Part of her wanted to confront him, see what he said when she told him what she'd found out, but first she would talk to Mick. She'd already gotten Liz and Kate to agree to take the self-defense class with her. Maybe afterward, she'd be able to pry some information out of Alex's old friend. It was a long shot, but it was all she had.
* * *
Alex was standing by the window of Mick's office when a car pulled into the alley in front of the gym and three women got out. One of them was an attractive blonde with a beautiful and very familiar face. His stomach turned over. What was Andrea doing here?
He'd been trying not to think about her since their run, but that hadn't been working too well. Every time he closed his eyes, her image came into his head. Every time he licked his lips, he was reminded of their kiss.
He stepped away from the window as the door opened behind him. For a moment he thought it might be Andrea, but Mick walked in.
Mick raised one eyebrow at his presence, then dropped a pile of towels on the chair in front of his desk. "What's up? You look like you just got a call from the IRS."
"I thought you were Andrea. I saw her get out of a car a second ago with some other women. What are they doing here?"
Mick cleared his throat. "Oh, did I mention that I'm starting a woman's self-defense class tonight?"
"No, you didn't."
"Really? I thought I had."
"And you invited Andrea?"
Mick nodded. "When she came to see me the other day. I need the business."
"She wants to quiz you for more information on me."
"Sure," Mick said easily. "But this way I get something out of it, too." He paused as a knock came at the door. "That's probably her. Are you ready?"
He shrugged. He was never really ready to see Andrea.
"Come in," Mick called out.
Andrea walked in with a cheerful smile, her blond hair pulled back into a ponytail on top of her head. She was dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, certainly nothing provocative, but Alex still felt a jangle at the end of every nerve. Unwilling to admit that she was getting to him, he growled at her, "What are you doing here?"
Her smile disappeared. "I'm taking a self-defense class from Mick. Do you have a problem with that?"
"As a matter of fact I do."
"Well, it's not your business," she retorted.
"Hold on," Mick interrupted. "If you two want to go a couple of rounds, I'll get you both some gloves, and we'll do it in the ring, not my office."
"I'm sorry," Andrea muttered, sending Alex a dark look. "He started it."
"You started it when you walked in here," Alex returned.
Mick sighed. "Did you want something Andrea?"
"No. I'll talk to you after class—when you're alone."
"Great," Mick said. "I need to get everyone signed in. I'll see you out there."
As Mick left the office, Alex shifted his feet and fought the urge to grab Andrea and kiss her until he didn't feel restless or needy anymore, but neither of those feelings was going to go away with one kiss.
He shoved his hands into his pockets. "What are you really doing here, Andrea? And don't tell me it's about self-defense class."
"It's partly about that, but I also wanted to talk to Mick about you, get some insight into your past."
"You don't need a middleman for that."
"Yes, I do. You get close and then you back away, and I'm getting tired of the dance."
She had a point. He had been playing a game of push-pull, and it wasn't working, because every time he walked away from her, he wanted to go back. He needed to get this story done so he wouldn't have any reason whatsoever to see her.
"What do you want to know now?" he asked. "I thought I answered a lot of your questions this morning."
"Well, I'd really like to know why you lied to me about your parents' car accident."
He sucked in a quick breath. He'd wondered if she'd figure that out. He'd hoped not, but obviously Andrea was not to be underestimated.
"Why do you think I lied?" he countered.
"Because there's no record of their death." She held his gaze for a long moment. "Nothing to say?"
"Actually, I have a lot to say, but not here and not now. You have a class to get to, don't you?"
She frowned. "Yes, I do, and since I persuaded two of my friends to come with me, I really need to do it with them. Can we talk later tonight?"
"After class. I'll wait for you."
"Okay," she said, surprise in her eyes. "You're going to hang around for an hour? You don't have anything better to do?"
"I have a million better things to do, but I'll wait because you're right, we need to talk. We need to wrap this story up."
"My thoughts exactly. I'm glad we're finally on the same page."
He opened the door for her, and she preceded him down the hall and into one of the studios where Mick and a young guy were getting ready to start the class.
Alex sat down on a bench against the wall as Andrea joined a beautiful brunette that she addressed as Kate and a pretty blonde she called Liz. They were all quite attractive, but as the class progressed, their personalities also became apparent.
Andrea was a scrappy spitfire, Liz seemed cool, controlled and quite capable of delivering a lethal blow to any assailant, and Kate was a smiling, laughing girl, who seemed quite squeamish about violence. But it was hard not to like Kate. She was enthusiastic, if not very effective. Hopefully, none of them would ever have to actually defend themselves.
Andrea looked over at him every now and then, and he could barely take his eyes off of her. He really didn't know what to do about her. How much should he tell her? And more importantly how much information could he trust her with? The answer was very little. She was a reporter. She had a job to do. She wasn't going to leave something important out of her interview piece just because he asked nicely.
But even aside from the issue of the article, he didn't know what to do about her personally. She'd told him he could hurt her. He didn't want that to happen. He also didn't want her to hurt him. And that could happen, too. He hadn't let a woman get this close to him in a long time, especially a woman he hadn't slept with. But their emotional connection was as strong as the physical attraction, and in a few days she'd turned his life upside down. He couldn't imagine not seeing her again. On the other hand, where could any relationship with Andrea go?
No answer sprang to mind. He told himself to stop worrying about a relationship and focus on what he was going to tell her to hopefully derail her pursuit of his past. That was his most immediate problem.
He still hadn't figured that out when the class to an end.
He stood up as Andrea brought her friends over to meet him.
"Alex, these are two of my best friends, Kate Marlow and Liz Palmer."
"Nice to meet you," Kate said, shaking his hand with a warm smile.
"Hello," Liz said, her smile more speculative than warm. "Andrea says she's writing a story about all your accomplishments."
"Yes, and I'm her least favorite assignment," he said lightly.
"I never said that," Andrea said quickly.
"Maybe not in so many words," he conceded. "But we both know you'd rather be interviewing a politician or a medical researcher or someone who's contributed greatly to the world."
"I don't know what you've done for the rest of the world," Kate interrupted. "But you've given me hours of escape and pleasure while playing your game SpookCraft. In fact, I don't think I could have gotten through calculus without it. I learned more about algebraic equations playing that game than I ever did in school."
He smiled. "Good to hear."
"What is SpookCraft?" Andrea asked.
"It's a spy game," Kate said, surprise in her voice. "Alex has sold millions of copies of it. It's been around for seven or eight years now. You didn't know that, Andrea?"
"There are so many games," Andrea said defensively.
"Well, you should know that one," Kate told her. "It's one of the top sellers. I used to try to get you to play it with me in college. Don't you remember?"
"Now that you mention it, I do remember. I just didn't know that was one of Alex's games."
"Almost every game we ever played was made by Alex's company," Liz said.
"I didn't realize," Andrea mumbled, looking a little embarrassed by the fact that her friends knew more about his games than she did. "We'll have to talk more about the games."
"We can do that now," he said.
"Yes," she agreed. Turning back to her friends, she said, "I'm going to catch a ride with Alex. I'll talk to you later."
As the women left, Alex said, "I like your friends."
"Because they play your games?"
"It's nice to know that I have a female audience."
"I suspect you always have a female audience, Alex," she said dryly. "But while I'll be happy to hear about your games, I want to talk about you tonight. Is that going to happen, or are you going to come up with another unexpected emergency?"
"I waited for you, didn't I? Let's go."
"All right."
They walked out to his car without further discussion. As Alex got behind the wheel, his phone rang. Tyler's number flashed across the screen. It was extremely unusual for Tyler to call instead of text. "I'm sorry, I have to get this." He answered his phone. "Hello, Tyler?"
"I need help."
"What's wrong?"
"I wrecked the Monroe's car. They were going to kick me out anyway, but now I'm done."
His stomach tightened. "Where are you?"
"I'm at Homer and Third. I started running and I couldn't stop, but now I don't know where to go. You can't take me back there, Alex. I just need bus money. I'll go away. I'll get out of everyone's hair."
"Just stay put. I'll be there in ten minutes. I mean it, Tyler. Don't move." He set down his phone. "I need to pick someone up."
"Who's Tyler?"
"A fourteen-year-old kid who probably just ruined his life."
"And how is he your problem?"
"I'm his mentor, his Big Brother. I need to go get him. Do you want to catch a cab home? Mick will call you one."
"No, I'm coming with you."
He didn't want to take her along, but he also didn't have time to argue.
"Go, Alex," Andrea said.
"All right."
As he pulled out of the alley, she said, "Tell me about Tyler."
"He's a foster kid and a good kid, most of the time."
"What's happening now?"
"He said something about wrecking the family car. He's too young to drive, so I don't know what the hell is going on. He's in a pretty good situation. I hate to think he's wrecked that."
"Well, it sounds like he's not physically hurt, if that's any comfort," she said with a sympathetic smile.
"It is. Thanks. I thought you'd give me a hard time for another unexpected emergency."
"This one sounds legitimate. It's nice of you to be a Big Brother, considering how busy you are running your company."
"I can relate to Tyler. I want to stop him from making the mistakes I made."
"What kind of mistakes?"
"I got so used to being sent away that sometimes I'd force the issue just so I wouldn't have to wait for it to happen. Tyler does the same thing. He tests the Monroes, pushes them to see how much they'll take. But they're a good family, and he could do a lot worse."
"Did you stay with any good families?"
"One, but then the mom got sick and the dad couldn't handle taking care of the kids, so we were split up and sent back into the system. The others ranged from nothing much to very bad. I ran away a bunch of times."
"And then you met someone you liked, who was willing to take you in, but she wasn't your aunt, was she?"
He gave Andrea a quick glance. "You have been digging, haven't you?"
She didn't answer, just gave him an expectant look.
"She wasn't my aunt. She was someone who had a big heart and was willing to take in a kid that no one else wanted."
"Thanks for finally telling me something that's true. That's a start."
"And that's all we're going to do for now," he said, as he neared their destination. "Before we pick up, Tyler, we need to get something straight. You cannot write about him. His name—this event—cannot be in your story. You have to promise me that. If you can't, I'm going to drop you off and get you a cab home."
She stared back at him. "I will keep Tyler out of the article. That's a promise."
"Okay, good."
"But you and I still have a lot more to talk about."