Her easy smile shifted to surprise, but didn’t lose any of its welcome. “Well, hi, what can I do for y’all?”
The voice was as warm and sweet as the air. She brushed back at her honey blonde hair the way some women did when caught unawares.
“We’re looking for Darrin Pauley.”
“Oh goodness, I think he lives up in Chicago or something. We haven’t seen him in—”
“Who is it, Mimi?”
“They’re looking for Darrin, honey. I don’t mean to have you standing here in the doorway, but—”
Eve pulled out her badge, watched Mimi’s eyes widen on it even as Vincent Pauley stepped to the door. “What’s all this about? Police? New York police? He’s in trouble? Darrin’s in trouble? Well, hell.” He said it on a sigh, something resigned, sad, unsurprised all at once. “We’d better talk inside.”
He gestured them in while his wife rubbed his arm in comfort. “Why don’t I get us all some tea? It’s a warm night, and I bet you could use something cold.”
“Mama?” A little girl looked down over the banister from the top of the stairs to the right.
“You go on back to bed, Jennie. It’s just some people to talk to Daddy. Go on now, you’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
The girl blinked sleepy eyes at Eve, then slipped back upstairs.
“We’re all going to Play World tomorrow, along with Jennie’s best friend and her parents. Two days of amusement and water parks. Lord help us. And I’m babbling. Let me get that tea.”
She scooted away. Eve wondered if her hurry was to get away, or to get back quickly. Either case, she and Roarke were left with Vincent Pauley of the handsome face and sorrowful eyes.
“Let’s have a seat. Screen off,” he ordered, and the comedy chuck-ling away shut down. “I guess I always wondered if I’d get police at the door sometime or other about Darrin. It’s been years since I even laid eyes on him. I can’t tell you where he is. He doesn’t keep in touch.”
“When did you last see your son, Mr. Pauley?”
He smiled, but there was bitter around the edges. “I don’t know that he is my son.” He rubbed his eyes. “God, some things never stop coming up behind you, do they? I was with his mother when he was born, and had been with her for months before. I put my name on the records. I thought he was mine. But I didn’t know she’d been with someone else before she was with me, while she was with me. I wasn’t yet twenty, green as grass and dirt stupid with it.”
“Don’t say that, Vinnie!” Mimi came in carrying a tray with a big pitcher, several glasses full of half-moon slices of ice.
Roarke rose. “Let me help you with that, Mrs. Pauley.”
“Oh, thank you. Don’t you have a nice accent. Are you from England?”
“Ireland, a long while ago.”
“My grandmother’s grandmother, on my father’s side, she was from Ireland. From somewhere called Ennis.”
She pronounced it wrong, with a long I at the start, but Roarke smiled. “A lovely little town. I have people not far from there.”
“And you came all the way to America to be a policeman.”
“He’s a consultant,” Eve said, firmly, as Roarke smothered a laugh. “Darrin’s mother is listed as Inga Sorenson, deceased.”
“That’s the name she was using when I was with her, and I left it that way on the records. I don’t know if it was her name. I don’t know if she’s alive or dead. I’m told she’s dead, but . . .”
“Why don’t you tell me when you last saw him or spoke with him?”
“I guess maybe six years ago, or seven.”
“Seven,” Mimi confirmed. “Early spring because I was putting in the bedding plants out back, and Jennie was in kindergarten. Vinnie was at work, and I was alone here. I was afraid to let them in so I called Vinnie and he came right home.”
“Them?” Eve repeated, and saw Mimi slide her gaze toward her husband.
“Darrin, and the man who may be his father,” Vinnie said. “The man he considers his father, and the one Inga was with before me, and maybe during me for all I know. My brother.”