Читать книгу Without a Doubt - Kathleen Long - Страница 7

Sophie Markham stood in the middle of the Hilton’s ballroom and stared into her past.

Looking at the child was like looking at a ghost—a vision of the young girl her sister had once been, many years before she’d perished in a senseless house fire.

Smoking in bed. Sophie blinked and shook her head. What a waste. She eyed the young girl again, watched how she interacted with her mother, the fund-raiser’s organizer.

If Rebecca’s infant daughter had survived the fire, she’d be about the same age. Five, Sophie guessed, though goodness knew she had so little experience with kids she wasn’t terribly gifted at guessing their age.

“Live in three, Sophie.” John Cook, WNJZ’s cameraman, spoke from just behind her left ear.

“Thanks.” Sophie wrenched her attention away from the young girl, smoothed the front of her designer suit and smiled at the camera. “Look okay?”

“Gorgeous as always.”

“I’m telling you, Cookie, if only you weren’t married.”

Cook, who was old enough to be her father, shot her a wink then tipped his head toward the event’s organizer, Maggie Alexander. “We’d better get set up.”

As Sophie crossed the room to where the girl’s mother stood, she couldn’t keep her focus away from the little girl. When the child’s gaze locked with hers, Sophie’s breath caught in her throat.

The little girl had the same chestnut-brown hair Becca had as a child, the same button nose. Sophie smiled at the way the girl’s pixie haircut framed her curious expression.

“Ally, Mommy’s got to talk to Ms. Markham now, so you’ll be a good girl, right?”

The child’s face softened into a huge grin revealing a wonderfully toothy smile, but as Ally turned to give her mother a quick nod, it was something entirely different that captured Sophie’s attention. It was a birthmark on the back of the girl’s neck in the shape of a perfect butterfly. A birthmark identical to the one Sophie’s niece, Robin, had been born with.

Sophie blinked, disbelief rushing through her. She never thought she’d see anything like the mark again.

Like a cruel glimpse into the past, the patch of discolored skin brought back memories of the night Becca and Robin had perished. What were the odds two children would have identical birthmarks? Apparently not as high as she might think, because there Ally Alexander stood, bearing Robin’s butterfly.

Robin. Who would have been the same age.

A wave of grief threatened to overtake Sophie’s emotions, but she shoved it away. Now wasn’t the time to let the past get the best of her.

“Sophie.” Cookie squeezed her elbow. “Thirty seconds. You all right?”

Sophie swallowed away the tightness in her throat and pasted on a smile, her expression nothing more than a reflex at this stage in her career. She compartmentalized the old grief, locking it inside the back of her brain as Cookie counted down on his fingers. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

“Sudden infant death syndrome,” Sophie began. “It takes the lives of 3,000 children in this country every year and yet it cannot be prevented or predicted.

“With me tonight is Maggie Alexander, chairperson of this year’s SIDS gala. Tonight’s carnival seeks to raise funds for local organizations that provide support services for area families who have suffered a loss. Organizers hope to spread awareness of the steps you can take to help reduce the risk of SIDS.”

She turned her cheek to the camera and gave Maggie a generous smile, hoping the woman would sound as competent and articulate in the interview as she had during their initial conversation. “Mrs. Alexander, this year’s attendance seems better than ever. Can you tell me a little bit about how tonight’s event can help our community?”

Maggie Alexander proceeded to concisely deliver what Sophie was certain must be a series of practiced talking points. The woman was effective in her comments and kept her tone conversational, without the visible nerves so many interviewees suffered as soon as Cookie turned on the camera light.

“Mrs. Alexander?”

“Please, call me Maggie.”

Sophie nodded and let her expression grow serious. “Maggie. If it’s not too personal, might I ask how you came to be involved with the program?”

Even though they’d discussed the question beforehand and Sophie knew Maggie was prepared for it, she felt like a heel invading the woman’s personal pain for the benefit of a story.

A shadow passed across Maggie Alexander’s face as she visibly swallowed. “Of course. Like so many of us active in raising funds and awareness to fight SIDS, my husband, Robert, and I lost a child. Our son.” She shot a knowing glance to where her husband stood holding Ally.

“I’m so sorry.”

Maggie forced a weak smile. “Thank you.”

Sophie reached out and gently placed her hand against the woman’s arm. “Thank you for caring enough to take action. You have my sympathy and my respect.”

She turned back to the camera. “And with the help of those in attendance tonight and our viewers at home, together we can work to better understand SIDS.”

Cookie extinguished the camera light and headed for his bag of gear.

Mrs. Alexander’s throat worked, and Sophie regretted opening the wound of the woman’s personal pain. After they said their goodbyes, Sophie turned to the door where Cookie stood waiting.

That’s when she saw him.

Another vision from her past. This one taller, darker, definitely male.

She hadn’t seen Gary Barksdale in seven years, yet the sight of him affected her senses much now as it had the first time she’d set eyes on him.

She’d been a junior at the University of Delaware, testing the waters at a tailgate party before a home football game. She’d always kept to herself, and the party had been a huge step out of her comfort zone.

Sophie remembered thinking she couldn’t decide whether her inability to breathe had been due to Gary, or due to some sort of antisocial panic attack.

Based on the current tightness in her chest, she’d put her money on Gary.

Gary Barksdale.

As if one ghost hadn’t been enough for the night.

He visibly flinched when he realized she’d spotted him watching her.

Their relationship had been brief but intense—overwhelming both of them with emotions too strong for a pair of college juniors. Sophie had broken things off when she’d realized she’d grown to need and want Gary’s presence. Of course, the fact he’d proposed had played a small role in the speed of her departure.

Sophie had once vowed never to need a man after watching her mother’s parade of losers. As much as she’d cared for Gary, she couldn’t afford to let him past her defenses then—or now.

He looked more solid than she remembered, not in the sense of physique, but in terms of his presence. He’d visibly matured, soft lines edging the corners of his mouth and the patch of skin between his brows, as if he’d spent too much time frowning.

The old, familiar flicker of attraction edged through her, causing her to fake a cough and momentarily glance away. The last thing she needed was for Gary to know she’d never quite gotten over him.

When she recovered from the shock of seeing him, Sophie closed the gap between them, ignoring the tiny voice that told her to run—as fast as she could—in the opposite direction. Seeing Gary was just what her emotions didn’t need on top of the memories of Becca and Robin.

The crooked grin she’d once dreamed about slid across Gary’s lips, dimpling one cheek.

“Sophie Markham.”

The rough notes of his voice sent a shiver up the back of her neck. Damn. After all these years, her nerve endings still snapped to attention at the sound of his voice.

“What brings you here?” One dark blond brow lifted.

Sophie narrowed her gaze. “Working.”

His grin spread into what appeared to be a sincere smile. “Kind of figured that out by the television camera and the microphone.” He tipped his chin toward her cobalt-blue suit. “Not to mention the getup. Far cry from those sweats you lived in at U of D.”

The heat of a blush fired in Sophie’s cheeks, and she turned away as if admiring the crowd. “Guess your investigative skills are sharp as always.”

“Apparently so.”

“Still with the Inquirer?” As if she didn’t know. She turned back to face him now that her warm embarrassment had left her face.

He nodded. “Thinking about making a move, actually.”

Sophie widened her eyes, asking the question silently.

“Los Angeles.” Gary shrugged. “I’d rather not jinx it by talking about it.”

“I never knew you were superstitious.”

His only response was a deepening of his tantalizing grin.

Sophie’s stomach clenched, but she ignored it. If Gary had plans to relocate cross-country, that gave her all the more reason to ignore any attraction that still lingered between them after all this time.

She redirected the conversation—and her thoughts—to work. Work was safe. Chitchat was not.

“So what brings the award-winning Gary Barksdale to a fund-raiser for SIDS?”

The words had no sooner left her lips than she wondered whether or not he’d lost a child. Good heavens. It had been so long since she’d seen him, he was probably married with a house full of kids by now. Some people actually developed lives after college.

Sophie wasn’t one of them. She’d developed one hell of a career, deciding the corporate fast track suited her much better than thoughts of family, or love.

Gary opened his mouth to answer her question, but Sophie interrupted. “I shouldn’t have asked that. I know a lot of attendees have lost a child. You don’t have to answer me.”

“No children.” Gary shook his head. “No wife.”

A traitorous note of relief whispered through Sophie’s veins, and she mentally chastised herself.

The decision to break off their relationship had been hers. She had no right to feel comforted by the fact he apparently hadn’t found anyone to take her place—yet.

“It was my nephew.” Gary let out a quick sigh. “Six years ago. Just about devastated our family.”

His words jolted her from her selfish thoughts.

His nephew.

Sophie reached out to touch his arm, but withdrew her fingers at the last moment. “I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks.” He forced a smile that didn’t come anywhere close to reaching his eyes. “They say time heals, but I don’t think it ever does.”

“Do they have other children?” Sophie hated the thought of anyone losing a child, remembering the way the death of her niece had sliced her clean through. She couldn’t imagine how a parent would survive.

Gary nodded. “They didn’t then. Adam was their one and only. It took them a while to have him. After he died, they tried again, and then chose adoption.” He tipped his head across the room. “I don’t know where my sister would be today without her.”

Sophie followed his gaze to where Maggie Alexander and her daughter stood. Her heart caught.

“Maggie’s your sister?”

“If you hadn’t dumped me so fast in school, you might have met my family.”

Sophie knew she should respond to Gary’s dig, but she couldn’t convince her brain to focus on anything but the young girl standing across the room, clinging to her mother’s hand.

Ally Alexander.

Adopted.

Ally Alexander.

With a birthmark identical to her niece’s.

Was there a chance—any chance at all—that Robin had survived the fire? After all, the investigators had found no remains.

What if the little girl the Alexanders had adopted was Robin? Could it be possible?

No.

She was thinking crazy thoughts. If Robin had survived, Sophie would be raising her now. After all, she’d been named guardian by Becca the day Robin was born.

They’d never found any bones that had been identified as Robin’s. They’d blamed it on her young age and the intense heat of the fire that had burned out of control for over forty-five minutes.

“Soph? You okay?”

The old nickname jerked Sophie’s stare away from Ally Alexander and back to Gary.

A frown had replaced his grin.

Sophie gave a quick shake of her head. “I’m fine. I was just thinking what a lovely family they make.”

Gary reached out and wrapped his fingers around her elbow. Heat seared from the point of contact through the thick weave of her suit. “I was sorry to hear about your sister and your niece. I should have called.”

Sophie swallowed and shook her head, taking a backward step to free her arm from his touch. “It’s okay. Listen, I need to get going.” She nodded to where Cookie stood waiting for her at the exit door. “It was good to see you.”

“You, too.” Gary held out a hand and she shook it, extracting her fingers from his as quickly as she could.

“See you around.”

Sophie beat a path across the room and past Cookie, holding her breath until she exited into the cool October air.

“You look like you just saw a ghost,” Cookie said as he loaded his equipment into the station’s van.

Sophie reached for the passenger door and shot a glance back at the banquet room door. “Call me crazy, Cook, but I think I just saw two.”

SOPHIE MARKHAM.

Gary’s gut did a sideways roll as he watched the dark-haired beauty walk away. Seven years. Seven years and she still had the same effect on him she’d had when he’d first spotted her on the University of Delaware campus.

His thoughts quickly shifted from the first time he’d seen Sophie to the last. The day she’d walked out of his life with no explanation other than the fact she didn’t need a man.

Didn’t want a man.

Didn’t want him.

The warmth that had spread inside his chest as they’d spoken wavered, cooling to an icy chill.

He’d known their paths would cross at some point. How could they not? He wrote for the largest paper in Philadelphia and Sophie reported for the most popular station. Matter of fact, it was a miracle they hadn’t bumped into each other before.

“Uncle Gary!”

The shrill little voice cut through his thoughts and he turned to find his niece, Ally, racing toward him, her patent-leather shoes slapping against the ballroom floor.

He dropped to one knee and braced himself for impact. Ally did not disappoint, launching herself at him as her uninhibited giggle filled the air.

Gary caught her under the arms, giving her a quick squeeze then lifting her up off the floor. He planted a kiss against her rosy cheek. “What’s up, kiddo?”

All thoughts of Sophie Markham faded as he took in Ally’s toothy grin and the sprinkle of freckles that spread across her pert nose.

“Mommy’s giving a party.” She nodded, excitement pouring off her small frame. “And did you see the TV camera? Mommy’s famous.”

“Yes, she is.”

Gary surveyed the room. How his sister had managed to turn the banquet hall into what appeared to be a mini-carnival, he had no idea. Maggie always had been a genius at whatever she put her mind to, and once she’d devoted herself to raising money and awareness for SIDS research, she’d never looked back.

“There she is.” Ally pointed to where her mother stood, mixing and mingling like a pro. “Mommy!”

Ally’s voice rang out across the room and Maggie’s face instantly lit from within as her gaze settled on her daughter. As Maggie closed the gap between them, Gary realized, not for the first time, that he’d do anything to preserve the look of pure joy that painted his sister’s features whenever she looked at her daughter.

To say adopting Ally had saved Maggie’s life would be an understatement—at least as far as Gary was concerned. He’d feared for his sister during the terrible time after she’d found her son, Adam, dead in his crib. When sudden infant death syndrome had taken his nephew, it had also taken a very big piece of his sister and her husband, Robert.

Their unsuccessful attempts at pregnancy—including financially and physically exhausting fertility treatments—had wrung the couple emotionally dry.

Ally wiggled in Gary’s arms as her mother neared, and he lowered her to the floor. She took off like a shot, straight for Maggie.

Gary’s gaze fell to the small birthmark that couldn’t be a more perfect symbol of what Ally meant to all of them. A butterfly. A tiny, perfect, life-affirming butterfly.

The day she’d floated into their lives, Ally had saved each of them. She’d reawakened the light in his sister’s beautiful eyes—the eyes that measured him now.

“Saw you talking to Sophie Markham.” Maggie waggled her brows teasingly, her smooth blond hair swinging against her jawline as she tipped her chin. “She’s very pretty. And smart. Not sure you’re man enough for her.”

That, he already knew.

Gary forced a weak smile. “Been there. Done that.”

Maggie’s brows snapped together and she frowned. “When?”

“College.”

“How long?”

He shrugged. “A few months.”

Her pale gaze widened. “Serious?”

He shook his head. “Apparently not as far as she was concerned.”

They’d grown adept at the art of concise conversations ever since Ally had become a parrot, repeating the last words of most every sentence she heard.

“Serious?” she mimicked her mother now, who gave her a quick squeeze.

Silence beat between Gary and his sister for a moment, then Maggie smiled.

“Well, I thought the woman had it all going on, but she’s obviously an idiot.”

“Idiot,” Ally repeated.

Maggie cringed.

“Thanks, sis.” Gary stepped close to his sister and dropped a kiss to her cheek. “Trust me, it’s ancient history. Are you going to feed me or what?”

She shifted Ally to one hip and linked her arm through Gary’s. “Right this way, handsome.”

As they crossed to the spread of appetizers and desserts, Gary fought to center his attention on the two women who loved him—the one at his side and the mini-woman she cradled in her arms.

If he took the Los Angeles job, these two would be what he’d miss most. Any time he seriously considered the position, it was the thought of leaving his family that made him hesitate.

Sophie Markham, on the other hand, would be someone he’d gladly leave behind. Her image flickered across his mind’s eye, and his tightening gut belied his tough thoughts.

Sophie Markham—the one woman who had made it quite clear years before that she did not love him, nor would she ever.

He worked to shove her image away, but his efforts were futile.

Seeing Sophie tonight had done nothing but sharpen the image that had never been far from Gary’s mind since he’d seen her last.

Ancient history?

Not so far as his heart—and pride—were concerned.

But there was no need for anyone but him to ever know the truth.

SOPHIE RUFFLED THE LAYERS of her short hair and braced herself, flipping open the cover of the folder she’d filed away five years ago.

Immediately after Becca and Robin’s deaths, she’d pored over every news article that mentioned the fire. She’d hounded the local police and fire departments. She’d been a woman obsessed, dumbstruck by grief and emotional loss.

She drew in a deep breath and held it, unsure whether she was ready to open the door to that pain again.

Careless Smoking Claims Life of Mother and Infant Daughter.

The words cut through her cleaner than any knife ever could. Sophie squeezed her eyes shut, then forced them open, willing herself to revisit that horrible night. Willing herself to reread every single word. Every note she’d made from her interviews of those at the scene.

Every word.

Somewhere here there might be a clue, might be something she’d missed. She couldn’t afford not to open herself to the old pain.

For five years, she’d accepted her sister and niece were gone. She’d accepted she was now alone, the last living Markham of her family tree. She’d given Becca and Robin a joint funeral befitting royalty, even though Robin’s casket had been empty.

The investigators had explained a fire as intense and long-burning as the one that had destroyed Becca’s home could have easily destroyed a baby’s body and bones. But what if someone had saved Robin from the flames?

What if?

The image of Ally Alexander’s unique birthmark flashed through Sophie’s mind, and she scrambled for the album she kept safely tucked in her nightstand drawer. Robin’s baby album.

She lifted the small object from the drawer, tracing a finger across the yellow duck that graced the cover. Sophie cracked open the treasured collection of snapshots and smiled down at the luminous face that met her gaze. The navy-blue eyes. The dark brown hair. The pert little nose.

Her throat tightened as she flipped through the images of her niece until she found what she’d been searching for. The close-up of Robin’s birthmark.

A perfect butterfly.

Sophie inhaled sharply, squinting at the photo.

Could two children possibly have such an identical mark? Of course, it might be possible. But Ally Alexander not only had the identical mark, she also had the same coloring and was similar in age to what Robin would be were she alive.

And she’d been adopted.

Was it possible?

Sophie swallowed hard, thinking of the series of articles Gary Barksdale had written for the Philadelphia Inquirer on the kidnapping and recovery of a local girl. The child had been six months old when she’d been kidnapped and four years old when she’d been reunited with her family.

He’d be the perfect person to help her sort through her suspicions and questions about identification, aside from the fact she’d be talking about his cherished niece.

Anxiety battled for its place among the tangle of emotions in her gut.

Gary Barksdale.

Seeing him tonight had been a reality check.

Since they’d split up, she’d worked with a vengeance, first at graduating college with top honors, then at landing a job with WNJZ.

She’d allowed herself to feel the pain, the joys and the triumphs of the stories she covered, yet she’d never let herself become close to anyone after her sister’s death.

Not a coworker. Not a friend. Not a lover.

Thoughts of the brief romance she’d shared with Gary rushed into her brain and she warmed instinctively. Her involvement with him had been heady, wonderful and foolish.

Breaking it off had been the smartest move she’d ever made. Watching her sister’s abusive relationship a short while later had convinced her she’d made the right move.

Once Robin had been born, Becca had wisely kicked out the man she’d been involved with— Robin’s father. He’d threatened violence on more than one occasion and after Becca had filed a restraining order—at Sophie’s urging—he’d thankfully disappeared from their lives.

Becca had moved back to the Philadelphia region, ready to make a fresh start with her gorgeous daughter. Sophie had been ready to do whatever her sister and niece needed. Anything.

Tears swam in her vision and she blinked them away.

Anything.

Then everything had changed, and the sister and niece who were her world were gone. Forever.

Or so she’d thought.

She might be grasping at the longest shot of her life, but she had to see it through. She owed that much to her sister’s memory.

Her reporter’s instinct wouldn’t rest until she fully explored the possibilities, and as much as she didn’t want to face the man again, she knew exactly where to start.