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“Funny,” Scarlet deadpanned. “He doesn’t know. Mom and Dad were never married, and Dad split before Sam was born.”
“Sounds familiar,” Bayli lamented.
“Sadly, yes. And like you, Sam hasn’t been inclined to learn the man’s identity or track him down.”
“Then why would you do it?”
Scarlet switched on the speaker feature so that she could pace behind her chair. She said, “I’m not entirely sure. I just like to know all the players in the game.”
“But this guy clearly isn’t in the game.”
“Correct. Yet he was previously. A real winner, too, from what Sam says. He thinks the asshole even went so far as to change his name to make it more difficult to associate him with Sam and his mother and keep him from having any sort of legal or financial responsibility to a newborn.”
“Which means chances are good he’s not included on Sam’s birth certificate.”
“That would be my guess.”
“Wow.” Bayli whistled under her breath. “This one’s a doozie. I’ve researched many a missing item for you, but never a person whose name I don’t even know.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want you to get bored with me or anything.”
Bayli laughed. “Not a chance. So I’ll start with Sam’s birthplace and I’ll also see if I can pick up any leads under his mother’s name. I read in the FBI report that they were originally from Colorado, then the Bronx before movin’ on up. Or rather out—to the Hamptons.”
“Total needle in the haystack, but let me know what you find. In the meantime, I’ve got to figure out how to engage the senior Vandenberg without him biting my head off.”
“Gads, good luck with that.”
“Yeah, thanks,” she said in a dry tone. Not so thrilled with the prospect.
“Before I go,” Bayli added, “tell me how it went in Montana.”
Scarlet sank into her chair and told her friend, “Professionally? A complete bust. Personally? Holy. Moses.”
Bayli let out a playful squeal. “Oh, my God! Spill!”
“Michael Vandenberg is devilishly handsome. Sam Reed is devastatingly handsome. And I couldn’t keep my hands off either one of them.”
“You naughty girl.”
“You’re one to talk. But yes. Yes, I am.”
“So delicious—stepbrothers!”
Scarlet squirmed in her seat. “And they are as different as night and day. Though both equally addictive.”
“Are you planning to see one of them again? Or maybe … both … of them?” There was a teasing lilt in Bayli’s voice. Scarlet could practically see the other woman’s dark brows wagging suggestively.
“I’m not sure exactly how this will all pan out,” Scarlet admitted. “I haven’t spoken with Michael since ‘the morning after.’ He alerted Sam that I was investigating, so I figure Michael assumed I’d make the trek to Reed Ranch. I’m hoping that’s the reason he hasn’t called me yet—giving me time to question Sam. As for that man…”
She crossed her legs as the thrumming started up between them.
Scarlet said, “Definitely the sort you want to stay snuggled in bed with on a snowy day.”
“Sooo,” Bayli ventured, “if he doesn’t want to know anything about dear old Dad, should you really be trying to locate the sperm donor?”
Scarlet contemplated this a moment. She hadn’t really thought of it being such a murky subject but could now see that discerning this information when Sam had never gone looking for the guy himself might muddy the waters.
Still … She liked to connect as many dots as possible during an investigation. Wasn’t above interviewing Misty Ferrera and Pembroke Peterson to clear them of any involvement—for all Scarlet knew, they could have been decoys to keep Michael and Sam out of the mansion. The fewer people roaming the hallways, the less chance of someone observing the theft.
