There was never any reply to any of his messages. He checked his e-mail, in particular, and he was relieved that the message he had sent did not bounce back. She had at least gotten it. He hoped that she had not immediately deleted it but had opened the e-mail first. As an experiment, he retrieved the message that he had saved and emailed it again. It did not particularly surprise him when this time he got a mail failure. She had closed her—or rather, Winter’s—e-mail account. She had probably done so when he had sent the first e-mail.
Michael had discontinued the direct deposit to her bank account. He felt that not to do so would be a slap in her face. She had only agreed to be available to him for the sake of her daughter. He understood that now. With a twisted smile, he recalled that, at the beginning, he had suspected money alone was not her sole motivation. How right he had been.
Michael weighed the ethics of taking a further hand in her personal affairs. He certainly did not have her permission, and he had a fair idea of what her reaction would be if he did ask. It should have given him pause. On the other hand, he loved her, and it was the only way left to him to express it.
Michael pondered his options. He made six figures a year. He had chosen his investments wisely over the years. He could probably make a significant dent in the total of her medical debt. Of course, he wasn’t so stupid to believe that he could buy himself into her good graces. That wasn’t the point at all.
He frowned as he carefully thought it through. If he was going to do this, he would have to move swiftly. He knew once she became aware of what he was doing, she would be furious. She did not want him in her life, and what he contemplated would be an intrusion that she could not ignore. Even if the subsequent communication between them was acrimonious on her part, at least it would establish a fragile contact with her. At the very least, she would acknowledge him. At best, she would permit him to talk to her. His heart thudded with a faint curl of hope, but he cautioned himself against disappointment.
Michael reached for the phone on his desk. First, the liquidity of some of his assets had to be arranged. He would have to discuss the legal ramifications with his attorney, in light of the petition for divorce, but he thought there wouldn’t be a problem if he touched only those investments that had been in existence before his marriage.
As for the other thing he had in mind, he would need to run it by his best friend.
Chapter Twenty-Six
When Michael saw the Lexus sitting in front of his house, he parked quickly and leaped out of the Porsche. His heart thundered. His hands were shaking before he was able to unlock the front door. He strode inside, leaving the door gaping wide behind him. “Winter? Winter!”
Silence greeted him, the silence of an empty house.
Michael didn’t want to believe it. He swiftly glanced through the rooms on ground floor, circled back to the stairs, and mounted swiftly. “Catherine?” She has to be here. But she wasn’t. The disappointment of not finding her at the house struck hard. Half afraid of what he would find, he searched all the places in the bedroom that he had set aside for her. He opened the closet, the dresser drawers, and the cabinets in the bathroom. All of her things were still there. She had not come back for them. Instead, she had brought back the Lexus.
He went back down the stairs with considerably less speed than he had mounted them. He halted at the open front door, stretched out an arm, and with his hand grasped the frame. He stared, dry-eyed, at the Lexus at the curb, even though his heart was tearing out of his chest. He knew what it meant. She was determined to sever all ties. Well, he wasn’t ready to give up. He still had a hand to play.
As he started to close the door, Michael caught sight of a brown manila envelope sticking up out of his mailbox. Michael stepped out on the porch to retrieve the envelope and carefully opened it. Inside were the keys to the Lexus and the house key that he had given to Winter. There was nothing else. He narrowed his eyes. The cell phone. It’s not here. He checked inside the mailbox, but it was empty.