Читать книгу Make Me Melt - Karen Foley - Страница 11

2

Present Day

CAROLINE STUFFED HER files into her leather carry case, snapped it shut and glanced at her watch. It was nearly ten o’clock, and she’d told the social services caseworker, Patrick Dougherty, that she would stop by the child welfare office as soon as possible to discuss Devon Lawton’s case. The boy had run away from home—again. The police had caught him breaking into a convenience store early that morning and had arrested him. Devon had borne the evidence of a vicious beating, and although he’d refused to name the person responsible, Caroline suspected it was his father.

Now the police wanted to put Devon into juvenile detention, while Caroline knew what he really needed was a safe, stable home environment. But at fourteen, he already had a growing rap sheet, and she seriously doubted that they’d be able to find a suitable foster family willing to take him in. He was a smart kid, and she believed with the right support, he could turn his life around. Both of his parents were alcoholics, and she suspected they did drugs, as well. Each time he got into trouble, the courts returned him to his family. There had never been any evidence of physical abuse...until now. Caroline hadn’t seen Devon yet, but Patrick had told her the boy was a mess.

She stopped by her boss’s office on her way out of the impressive marble building in downtown Richmond, Virginia, that housed the law firm of MacInness, Shively and Crane. Arthur MacInness, one of the senior partners, was standing behind his gleaming desk, studying a document he held in his hands. Through the towering bank of windows behind him, Caroline had a perfect vantage point of the entire city. Storm clouds had gathered overhead, and the skies looked sullen and dark. Arthur glanced up as she knocked softly on his open door. He lowered his glasses in a way that reminded Caroline of her father.

“I’m heading over to the child welfare office,” she said. “One of my kids pulled a B and E overnight, but it sounds like he was beaten black-and-blue beforehand, probably by his father. I’ll be back in the morning.”

He nodded. “Very well. Just don’t let your pro bono work interfere with your other cases here.”

After she’d passed the bar exam, and been hired at MacInness, Shively and Crane as a junior attorney, Caroline had found the work exciting and challenging. But after nearly two years of working on behalf of wealthy couples battling for child custody, she had started to feel unfulfilled. It wasn’t until she’d begun volunteering her legal services in support of the city’s underprivileged citizens that she’d felt infinitely more satisfied. And when she’d begun to focus those efforts on the youngest citizens—the children—she knew she’d finally found her calling.

She would have preferred that work exclusively, but she had bills to pay. So she’d hammered out a deal with her firm to devote a portion of her time to pro bono work through the child welfare office. The work indirectly benefited the firm, as the effort made them look at least somewhat philanthropic.

Last week, the district attorney’s office had offered her a full-time position on its staff, based on the pro bono work she’d done. She’d be a child advocate, representing children who otherwise would have nobody to speak up for them. She was considering the offer, although it would mean a cut in pay from what she was currently making. It would also mean she’d be able to work full-time on behalf of the city’s needy children. The work appealed to her. In fact, it was exactly the kind of work she’d hoped to do full-time. So what was holding her back from accepting the job? She wanted to make a difference in the lives of troubled kids, but she just wasn’t sure whether she wanted to do it here in Richmond.

Lately she’d found her thoughts turning more and more frequently toward San Francisco. She’d told herself a million times that it had nothing to do with Jason Cooper, or the notion that he’d once been a kid just like Devon. She was just missing her father. On some level, the work she did made her feel closer to him...and she’d been thinking that maybe it was time she went home, this time for good.

After she’d graduated from law school, she’d moved permanently to the East Coast, determined to get a job on her own terms, without her father’s influence. At the time, he’d still been a superior court judge, and he had connections with most of the bigger law firms in the area. It wouldn’t matter if Caroline was hired strictly on her own merit; she knew there’d be people who would always say her father had helped her out. So she’d gone to the opposite side of the country, where few people had ever heard of William Banks.

She liked Richmond, but it wasn’t home. Besides, her father wasn’t getting any younger. He’d also been appointed to the Supreme Court of California several years ago, and Caroline worried about the toll his job was having on his health. But maybe they could escape to the beach house in Santa Cruz for a weekend. It would be just like old times.

Well, almost, she amended silently.

He wouldn’t be there.

She knew that Jason still kept in touch with her father and frequently made the seven-hour trip from San Diego to San Francisco to spend time with Judge Banks. Somehow, even with the demands of being a U.S. marshal, Jason managed to spend more time with her father than she did. No question about it—she was a terrible daughter.

But Jason was precisely the reason Caroline avoided going home. She’d seen him just once since that disastrous night when she’d practically begged him to have sex with her. She had just graduated college and had been accepted into law school on the East Coast. Her father had made a big deal out of the event, throwing her a party at the beach house. Jason had been there, and although she’d been acutely aware of him watching her, he hadn’t spoken to her and had left before she could gather enough courage to approach him. As a deputy marshal, he’d been even sexier than she remembered, and her heart had leaped at the sight of him.

She’d wanted him to see her as a grown woman, and there’d been no shortage of cute guys at the party to flirt with. She’d done her best to make sure that Jason knew she could have any one of them. But he’d apparently been less than impressed. When he’d taken off without uttering a single word to her, she’d felt sixteen years old all over again. After he was gone, the party had been over for her.

That had been seven years ago. While she was definitely over Jason Cooper, she had no desire to have him drop in unexpectedly while she was visiting her father. As a result, she rarely visited, preferring to have her dad come out and stay with her in Virginia. Because he had friends in Washington, he usually conceded to her requests, but she knew she couldn’t continue to expect him to travel across the country every time he wanted to see her.

Hefting her carry bag over her shoulder, she took the elevator to the first floor of the building and made her way across the spacious lobby, the heels of her shoes echoing on the polished marble. The first floor was only moderately busy at this time of day, with a few stragglers returning from lunch, laughing and shaking moisture from their hair and shoulders as they entered the building. Through the glass doors that led to the street, Caroline saw it had begun to rain. Pausing, she slid her bag around to where she could unzip the outer compartment and pulled out her umbrella.

When she looked up again, two men were pushing through the rotating doors. Caroline’s breath caught, and her feet remained glued to the floor.

The first man wore khaki fatigues, a dark blue polo shirt and a matching baseball cap. He had the distinctive bearing of a law enforcement officer. If the weapon in his hip holster didn’t grab your attention, the U.S. Marshals logo emblazoned on the breast of his shirt did.

But it was the second man who caused Caroline’s heart to skip a beat and almost stutter to a stop before exploding into frenzied overdrive.

Jason Cooper.

He wore a black sports jacket and shirt, paired with well-worn blue jeans and boots. He had an easy, loose-limbed stride that Caroline would have recognized anywhere. As he made his way across the lobby toward her, she caught a glimpse of the badge he wore on his belt—the silver star of a U.S. marshal.

The years had done nothing to diminish his good looks or the vague aura of danger that clung to him. He was bigger than she remembered, having lost the lean gauntness of his youth. Beneath the jacket, she could see his shoulders and chest were thick with muscle. He looked as if he kicked ass for a living.

His dark hair was cut short, and his skin was burnished from the sun. But it was his eyes that held her riveted. They still reminded her of tempered glass, and right now they were fixed on her with unsettling intensity. His square jaw was set in grim lines. As he met her gaze, frissons of dread fingered their way along her spine.

Raising her chin, she looked directly at Jason and forced herself to speak with a calm that she was far from feeling. Her fingers closed convulsively around the umbrella in her hands. “Marshal Cooper. You’re a long way from home.”

Caroline tried to quell the erratic rhythm of her heart. Fear caused her stomach to roll, and for a moment she was afraid she might actually be sick. She knew there could be only one reason he had flown all the way to Virginia to seek her out at work.

“Caroline.” He indicated the officer beside him. “This is Deputy Marshal Colton Black.”

His voice hadn’t changed at all, and the sound of it, low and a little rough around the edges, brought a tidal wave of memories flooding back. It seemed some things never changed, because the quality of his voice still had the ability to make her shiver. But all those years ago, his voice had been husky with arousal and then harsh with rejection; now he was all business. He regarded her as if she were a stranger.

Two women walked past them toward the elevators, giving both Jason and his deputy appreciative smiles. Caroline recognized them from the real estate division of the law firm, and she fervently hoped they wouldn’t decide to stop and strike up a conversation to get a better look at the marshals.

“Is there somewhere private we can talk?” Jason asked, eyeing the women.

She gave a jerky nod and indicated a semiprivate sitting area on the far side of the lobby. Jason took her elbow to guide her. The touch of his fingers seemed to burn through her suit jacket to the sensitive skin of her inner arm, and she had to suppress the instinctive urge to pull away. As if sensing her discomfort, he let his hand drop, indicating she should precede him toward the cozy arrangement of upholstered chairs and sofas. His deputy moved to the far side of the lobby and directed his gaze through the windows to where the rain sleeted against the glass. For the first time in years, Caroline found herself alone with Jason.

Setting her bag down, she perched on the edge of the sofa. She was surprised when he sat down beside her. Drawing a fortifying breath, she turned to him, dread and anxiety twisting her stomach into tight ribbons. “Just tell me. He’s dead, isn’t he? Why else would you be here?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again, she saw something in his light green eyes that might have been pain. Then his expression grew shuttered, and he shook his head. “No, your father’s alive, but just barely.”

Relief swamped Caroline, so strong that for a moment, she went weak and covered her face with her hands. Immediately, Jason put an arm around her shoulders and gathered her close, lending her his strength. She allowed herself to lean into him, if only briefly. He smelled exactly as she remembered, like something woodsy and dark, and she had to resist the urge to burrow her face into his chest. Instead, she pulled away and dragged air into her lungs.

“What happened?”

Jason considered her, as if assessing whether or not she was strong enough to hear what he was about to say. His eyes were so bleak that for an instant, Caroline wasn’t sure she wanted to hear.

“He was shot while answering his front door last night. I’m sorry.”

Caroline closed her eyes briefly as her chest constricted painfully. Whatever she’d expected him to say, it hadn’t been that. She’d imagined him having a heart attack, either at home or at his office. But to be shot on his own front steps... The image that sprang to mind was so graphic she had to push it away.

Her father had spent his life giving to others and striving to make the world a better place. Jason Cooper was living proof of William Banks’s goodness and generosity. But Caroline also knew that as a Supreme Court judge, his rulings on controversial issues had likely gained him enemies. Still, when she thought of his bright blue eyes, full of shrewdness and humor, she couldn’t imagine that anyone would hate him enough to attack him in his own home. She recalled him always being so full of life and so active. When she was growing up, there’d hardly ever been a day when they didn’t have visitors or when her father wasn’t meeting someone for lunch or dinner. The knowledge that he was now fighting for his life left her feeling dazed. He was all she had left, and she didn’t know what she would do if she lost him. He’d been both mother and father to her, had been there for every important event in her life. He’d gone prom dress shopping with her, had hosted more slumber parties than she could recall and had sat up late with her on countless Saturday nights, watching romantic comedies and eating ice cream. He was everything to her, and the thought that she might lose him made her feel sick with both guilt and grief.

“Who would do such a thing?” She swiped a hand across her eyes. “And why?”

“We’ll find the person who did this,” Jason assured her. “We already have a team working it.”

“We have to go. Now.” She rose quickly, feeling a little panicky. “I need to book a flight. He’ll need me there with him.”

“Already done,” Jason said, standing also. “We depart from Richmond airport in two hours. Do you need to go home and pack anything?”

“Yes.” Her mind whirled with all the things she should do before she left, but there was no time. She needed to get to her father’s side. She could make some calls on the way to the airport. She’d talk to Patrick Dougherty and recommend another attorney for Devon Lawton. Then she’d call Arthur MacInness, and explain what had happened and let him know she’d likely be gone for several weeks. The rest would have to wait until she reached San Francisco.

“I’ll drive you to your house, and then we’ll head to the airport.”

“Thank you.” She swallowed. “Did you— Have you seen him?”

Jason shook his head. “No. I got the news just before midnight. An hour later, Deputy Marshal Black and I were on the red-eye from San Diego.”

Caroline could hardly believe her ears. “Why?” she asked. “Why would you come straight here, when you could have gone to San Francisco to be at my father’s bedside?” A small part of her—the part that still held on to girlish fantasies—wondered if he might have come directly to her because, on some level, he did care for her. But in the next instant, those childish thoughts were banished.

“Caroline,” he said patiently, as if she really were no more than a child, “the U.S. Marshals Service is charged with providing protection for federal judges.”

“Yes, I understand. But my father is a judge in San Francisco, and your district is San Diego. Are you saying that you’ve been assigned to protect him?”

He gave her a humorless smile. “No. I’m here to protect you.”

She stared at him, uncomprehending. “Me? But why?”

“Until the assailant is captured, we have to assume the judge’s life is still in danger. It’s standard protocol to assign a protection detail to immediate family members, as well.”

She shook her head, unwilling to accept what he was telling her. She didn’t want Jason to protect her. The news of her father had left her feeling vulnerable and emotionally ragged. She didn’t want Jason to see her like this. Having him witness her fear and grief was far too intimate.

“But why you? This is out of your jurisdiction. Why wouldn’t you assign a marshal from the San Francisco district to protect me?” She couldn’t keep the strain out of her voice. “Why does it have to be you?”

Jason’s expression darkened. “Because despite the fact you clearly don’t give a shit about your old man, you’re the single most important person in his life,” he said, his voice hard. “Call it a professional courtesy. I’m doing this for him, not for you. I owe him that, at least.”

* * *

JASON GLANCED AT the woman who sat beside him in the car, tense and unhappy. She’d hardly spoken during the long flight from Virginia to San Francisco. Not that he blamed her. He hadn’t been overly sympathetic to her.

Even his deputy had given him a look that would have withered most other men. But he and Colton had worked together for more than five years, and the other man was as close to a friend as he’d probably ever have. He glanced into his rearview mirror, noting the unmarked car that carried Colton and another deputy. Between the three of them, they would provide around-the-clock security to ensure Caroline’s safety.

The Caroline Banks he’d once known had changed. Gone was the sweetly passionate teenager who’d worn her heart on her sleeve. In her place was a coolly assured woman whose brittle demeanor and aloofness he hardly recognized. If his own manner toward her had been on the cool side, it was because she’d made so little effort to come home to visit her father. She’d been home once in the past five years. Judge Banks never complained, but Jason knew it hurt him. Caroline was his only child. While Jason loved the judge like a father, they weren’t family. His own frequent trips to San Francisco couldn’t make up for the fact that his daughter never came to visit.

Physically, she’d changed, too.

Her blond hair was darker than he remembered, layered with wheaten and caramel strands, and her normally tanned skin was pale, as if she hadn’t seen the sun in years. Yeah, she’d really put the California girl behind her when she’d cut out for the East Coast. Whenever he thought about Caroline—which was far too often, considering how much time had passed since he’d last seen her—she was always wearing a bikini or some skimpy outfit that showed way too much skin. The woman sitting next to him wore a pantsuit that had probably cost more than his monthly rent. She was so buttoned-up and conservative that he had a difficult time reconciling her with the exuberant girl of his memories.

But one thing hadn’t changed. His reaction to her had been immediate and so powerful that he’d had to draw on all his professional training to keep his emotions concealed. For just an instant, when she’d looked up at him in the lobby and their gazes had collided, he’d seen shock, then something that looked like hunger, in her eyes before she’d swiftly schooled her expression.

He’d been unprepared for how time and maturity had refined her beauty, sculpting her features and softening her curves. Caroline Banks had been an exceptionally pretty teenager. Now she was a drop-dead gorgeous woman, and the first thought that had steamrolled through his mind was that he’d completely blown it all those years ago when she’d asked him to be her first.

Realistically, he knew he’d done the right thing turning her away, but the knowledge that she’d likely had numerous lovers in the ensuing years bugged the hell out of him. Clenching his jaw, he told himself again—as he’d done a hundred times since—that he’d had no other choice.

Now he glanced at her as they parked near a rear entrance of the hospital, where several California state troopers stood near the doors. Her eyes widened, and she turned to look at him.

“Are they here for my father?”

“Until we catch the perpetrator, they’ll provide twenty-four-hour protection.”

“Why? Do you think whoever shot him will want to finish the job?”

Jason heard the underlying anxiety in her voice.

“That isn’t going to happen. We have our best men standing guard outside his room.”

He’d give his own life before he let anything happen to Judge Banks.

Or to Caroline.

“Thanks,” she said, nodding stiffly.

“Are you ready?”

She drew in a deep breath. “Yes. I think so.”

But moments later, standing by her father’s bedside, Jason knew she hadn’t been prepared for the sight of William Banks lying still and unresponsive, attached to a dozen monitors and tubes. Even Jason, who had seen numerous victims, found it unsettling.

Without the sparkle of his blue eyes or the energy of his personality in evidence, the judge looked old and frail. His mouth was slack, and his silver hair was in disarray. Above the thick bandage on his chest, his skin was stained orange from the surgical antiseptic. Jason noted traces of blood remained on his neck and jaw from the splatter of where he had been shot. Anger swirled through him, building and gathering like a dark storm. They’d find the person responsible, and he’d make sure they paid for what they had done to William. For what they had done to Caroline. For what they had done to him.

* * *

CAROLINE SAT BY her father’s bedside for the next several hours. At first, she’d just wept silently, but then she’d composed herself and covered his hand with her own, talking to him in soothing tones, despite the fact he was in a deep coma. She’d removed her jacket, revealing a white blouse that was so sheer, Jason could see the lacy outline of her bra beneath it. Her blond hair had begun to come loose from the clip she used to hold it back, and he liked how the tumbling locks made her look less aloof. If he’d had any doubts that she loved her father, it was dispelled by the expression he saw on her face as she held his hand.

Finally, she leaned forward and pressed a lingering kiss against his forehead before rising to her feet. She glanced at Jason, then turned away and swiftly swiped her fingers across her cheeks. She picked up her jacket from where she had draped it across the arm of her chair and pivoted to face him. Jason was relieved to see she’d dried her tears. When she cried, he had an almost irresistible urge to drag her into his arms and comfort her.

“So what now?” she asked quietly. “The doctor said the next forty-eight hours are critical.”

She wanted him to reassure her that the judge would pull through, that he’d make a full recovery. But Jason couldn’t do that. He’d read the medical report. William had lost a tremendous amount of blood and had been in full cardiac arrest when they’d brought him into the emergency room. His injuries were so grave that the doctors had put him into a medically induced coma. He’d suffered brain damage, but they wouldn’t know the full extent of impairment until he regained consciousness.

If he regained consciousness.

Jason didn’t want to think about that. Everything he had—his education, his career and even his outlook on life—he owed to the judge. Losing him would be worse than losing his own father. And if he felt that way, he could only imagine what Caroline was going through. Seeing how hard she tried to camouflage her emotions and put on a good face made him feel a surge of sympathy for her.

“You know, it’s okay to cry,” he said. “You don’t need to hide your feelings from me.”

She gave a disbelieving laugh. “Oh, yes, I do. I absolutely do.”

Before Jason could respond, a nurse walked into the room and began to change the judge’s IV drip.

“Stay here as long you’d like,” he urged Caroline. “I’ll wait outside in the hallway.”

She hesitated. “Would you like to spend some time alone with him? After all, he’s as much your father as he is mine.”

For just a moment, Jason was too surprised by her perceptiveness to respond. He hadn’t been the only troubled youth who’d benefited from the judge’s generosity, but he knew he was one of the few who’d maintained a close relationship with him over the years. While others had used their friendship with her father to advance their own careers, Jason had genuinely loved the older man and had enjoyed spending time with him. Even after he’d joined the U.S. Marshals Service, and his future had been secure, that hadn’t changed. But he wasn’t going to do Judge Banks any good by standing vigil at his bedside. Not when the person responsible was still out there, maybe hoping to finish the job.

“Thanks,” he said, “but if you’re ready to go, then so am I. The best way I can serve your father is to protect you.”

For a moment, she looked taken aback. “You’re serious. You think my life is in danger.”

“I have to make that assumption.” He gestured toward the bed. “But you can stay with him for as long as you’d like. I’m not going anywhere.”

She shook her head “No, that’s okay. It’s getting late, and he doesn’t even know I’m here. I’ll come back in the morning. I think I’d just like to go home.”

Jason knew she meant the house in Sea Cliff, where she had grown up. “I’m afraid that’s not possible,” he told her. “The house is an active crime scene, and the investigators are still gathering possible clues.”

“Oh.” Her brows knitted together as she considered this. “Okay. Then I’ll find a hotel.”

“I already booked a suite of rooms for us at the Fairmont. It’s close to the hospital, and the security there is excellent.”

Jason saw something like panic flash in her eyes. “Us?” she repeated.

“Until this thing is over, I’m your personal protection detail,” he reminded her. “Where you go, I go.”

“Like a bodyguard? Is that really necessary?” Caroline clenched her hands at her sides, and her voice sounded a little desperate. “You said yourself that the security at the hotel is excellent. It’s my father who needs the protection, not me. Why can’t you just stay here, with him?”

“Not an option,” he said grimly. “There are two men standing guard outside the room and two more downstairs. Your father is secure—my job is to ensure your safety. If you’re ready to go, we’ll leave.”

“Oh, my God, this is crazy,” she muttered and rubbed a hand over the back of her neck. The movement caused her blouse to stretch tautly across her breasts, and Jason tried not to notice the faintest shadow of her nipples beneath the lacy fabric of her bra. After a moment, she sighed. “Okay, fine. I’ll stay in a hotel if you insist, but I’d like to stop by the house first. I want to see where my father was shot.”

Jason hesitated. He was sworn to protect her at all costs. And not just from physical danger. Seeing her father fighting for his life in a hospital was bad enough. Witnessing the evidence of the violence that had sent him there, splattered across her front porch, was another thing altogether. He didn’t want her exposed to that kind of ugliness.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He watched as her eyes narrowed and she tipped her chin up in a gesture that he remembered too well. “I’m not a child anymore, Jason.”

He hadn’t even seen the crime scene, although he had a good idea of what to expect. But she had been sheltered and pampered her entire life. Neither her expensive education nor her law degree would have prepared her for the rawness of what he suspected awaited her at her father’s house. But he was beginning to understand that she was right—she was no longer a child, and there were some things even he couldn’t protect her from.

“Fine,” he said in a clipped tone. “Let’s go.”

With a satisfied nod, she pushed past him and strode into the hallway, leaving him with no choice but to follow her. Just outside the hospital room, he paused to withdraw a small surveillance earpiece from his pocket and insert it, ensuring communication with the rest of his team. As he adjusted the earpiece, he didn’t miss how the two guards sitting outside the hospital room followed Caroline’s progress with their eyes. Not that he blamed them. She was a beautiful woman, and her hips swung enticingly with each determined stride. She’d taken about ten steps when she stopped and turned.

“Are you coming?” she demanded. “How are you going to protect me if you can’t even keep up with me?”

Without waiting for a reply, she continued toward the exit. Jason exchanged a knowing look with the two guards before following her. As he reached her side, he acknowledged soberly that while he could protect Caroline from whatever dangers might lie in wait outside the hospital, he wasn’t sure he could protect her from himself.