Gone by Mallory Kane Page B

his father was. That maybe even Kit didn’t know. Marcie had always resented Kit for that reason.
    But whether Joe had known for hours or years, he should have told her. She was his wife. They had a child together. If anyone in the world deserved to know the truth about his parentage, it was her.
    She thought about what he’d said as he’d left earlier. What if he had gone to the Delanceys to ask for the money without even consulting her?
    She stalked back into the kitchen, picked up the paper and ripped the article out of it. She heard Joe’s car pull into the driveway. She clenched her fist, crushing the newsprint.
    * * *
    J OE UNLOCKED THE front door and stepped inside. “Marcie?” He looked down the hall toward the kitchen, but didn’t see her. He glanced into the living room and past it into the dining room as he walked across the tile foyer and into the kitchen. Marcie was standing at the French doors, looking out into the darkness.
    “Where have you been?” she asked without turning around.
    “I told you, to try and put together the money Howard is demanding. I also went by the office to see if I could find a Howard that lives in Killian or the surrounding area.”
    “It’s late.”
    “Not really,” he said. “It’s just a little after seven.”
    She didn’t comment on the time. “So how much money did you manage to get?”
    He looked at her rigid back and slightly lifted head. “Marcie? What’s wrong? Has something happened? Did Howard call back?” He started toward her, but she whirled to face him and held up a hand.
    “Don’t,” she said. She held out her other hand, which held a wrinkled, torn piece of a newspaper.
    The paper was crushed almost into a wad, but that didn’t matter. He recognized it. It was the article. She’d found it. His stomach felt like it had sunk to his knees.
    “Did you drive over to Chef Voleur?”
    “What?” he asked automatically, still staring at the article. “Chef Voleur? Why—? Oh. No, Marcie, I—” He stopped at the look in her eyes. If they were lasers his head would be exploding right now.
    “Really? You didn’t go to the Delanceys and ask them for five hundred thousand dollars to pay a kidnapper for their grandson?”
    “No, I didn’t. I have no reason to go to the Delanceys for money.”
    Her glare didn’t cool one degree. “No? Do you think I can’t read, Joe? That I wouldn’t see this? That I can’t figure out what’s happening here? This—” she waved the wrinkled piece of newsprint “—is why our son has been kidnapped. That man read this article and figured he could get money from the Delanceys.”
    Joe closed his eyes and shook his head. “I only found out a few days ago.”
    “Really?” she said acidly. “You’re almost thirty years old and your mother never told you who your father was?”
    “That’s right,” he said. “She came to see me on her way to her yoga class the other day. She told me that a police detective, Ethan Delancey, had come to see her. Said he had something she needed to see. And she, in turn, thought I needed to see it. Big of her, right? After all this time? I never asked about my father. I figured she didn’t know.” He shrugged. “I...never cared.”
    Marcie stared at him. “Well, maybe you care now. Because it’s obvious that the reason these people have suddenly decided to demand a ransom for the child they stole and kept for two years as their own, is because they now know he’s a Delancey.”
    Joe nodded. He didn’t have an answer for her.
    “So why didn’t you go to them for the money?”
    Her question shocked him. “Why—? Marcie, why do you think I didn’t go to them? This is not their problem. They have no reason to give me anything. The Delanceys never knew Joshua existed. Hell, they didn’t know I existed.”
    Marcie’s cheeks flushed with anger and she held up the article again. “They know now, don’t you think?”
    He nodded, not looking at her. He knew she had a