Summer Secrets - Barbara Freethy [76]
"Don't you miss it just a little?" Caroline waved her hand toward the Moon Dancer streaking proudly across the water. "We should be on that boat. She's ours. She doesn't belong with K.C. and his nasty little son."
Kate had to admit it was difficult to watch their boat under someone else's hands. Especially someone who had made their life difficult during their very long race around the world.
Caroline turned to her with the same gleam in her eye that their father had had, and Kate felt every muscle in her body tighten.
"Don't say it," Kate warned. But Caroline wasn't listening.
"I think we should do it, Kate. We should help Dad win her back."
*
Tyler climbed on board the small boat that several people had mentioned belonged to Duncan McKenna. "Hello," he called, hoping he was in the right place. The boat swayed slightly beneath him. It was an odd feeling. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been on the water. His life for the past few years had been airplanes, fast cars, and maybe a train or two in Europe. Boats were foreign to him. Especially sailboats.
He couldn't imagine waiting for the wind to change before you could move. He needed control, a good solid engine that could take him where he wanted to go, wind or no wind.
"Hello, there," he called again. He jogged down the stairs and peered into the empty cabin. The interior was small, with an unmade bunk in one corner, newspapers, magazines, and clothes strewn about. The air was filled with the smell of cigarettes and booze, but there was no sign of Duncan McKenna. Damn. He'd hoped Duncan was still sleeping off what surely must have been a hangover from the night before.
Walking back up the stairs to the deck, he looked around, noting the numerous empty boat slips. Apparently there was some sort of a race going on today.
He sighed, wondering what to do next. He'd already learned a few more details about the McKenna sisters by spending some time at the local bars and cafes. The McKennas were hometown heroes and people loved to talk about them. He'd heard that Ashley had suffered a collapse several months after returning home from the race, stress and malnutrition, allegedly. But combine that collapse with the anti-anxiety medication he'd seen in her purse, and he could probably make a case for some type of mental breakdown. And then there was Caroline, who'd been picked up a few times for underage drinking and seemed to be a frequent visitor to the bar scene, along with her father.
Which brought him to Duncan, the one who had set the private adoption into motion.
If only Mark had done things the right way, they wouldn't be in this mess now. But Mark and his wife, Susan, had been desperate for a child, having tried for several years, and they just hadn't wanted to wait a second longer. When the opportunity had presented itself, they'd put a second mortgage on their house and bought themselves a birth certificate and an instant family.
It wasn't completely legal, but, then again, they hadn't stolen the baby. She'd been given up willingly, according to everyone involved. Unfortunately, there were no letters or signed documents to support that assumption. Everything had been done as anonymously as possible. Duncan hadn't wanted anyone to know about the baby. And Mark and Susan hadn't dared to ask any questions that would prevent the child from becoming theirs. For eight years it had all gone smoothly, until three weeks ago when it became clear that one of the McKenna sisters had hired herself an attorney to find her long lost baby.
He wondered now what had triggered that move. What had happened three weeks ago? Maybe that's where he should be looking, instead of so far in the past.
Tyler turned his head as he heard a man singing about beer, broads, and a good boat. It was Duncan -- Duncan and a friend. Duncan had one arm flung around the other guy's shoulders, and they staggered slightly as they came down the docks. Two old salts, Tyler thought, for surely there was no better description for the