Читать книгу The Hidden Years - Susan Kearney - Страница 13

“You forgot to tell the cops that you’re into kinky sex?” Jake’s teasing comment came out of nowhere. He was just hoping to ease her tension.

She humored him with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Nothing so scandalous.”

“You made an illegal U-turn on the way home?”

He didn’t like the paleness of her skin beneath the tan and wanted to see the glow come back. Even more, he wanted to return their friendship to an even keel and forget her words about how she’d wished they’d kept in touch. At night for months after she’d gone off to college, he’d thought of little more than what it would have been like to touch her and have her touch him in return.

He didn’t want those fantasies in his head. Besides, Cassidy had been frightened. Hurt. In shock. And while he didn’t believe that her remarks reflected anything beyond a desire for a platonic friendship, he suspected that her words would haunt his dreams for weeks.

“Jake, stop teasing me.” She rested her head back on the sofa and her golden hair spilled over her shoulders. “When I left your place, I was angry with you.”

“That’s why I came here. To apologize for my bad behavior. Even if your father refused to talk to me, I had no right to blame you for his actions. To practically call you a liar was going way too far. I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted. I’d say you’ve more than made up for your rudeness by saving my life.” Cassidy shuddered, then raised her chin, and her eyes darkened with determination. “I thought I’d dumped the box’s entire contents at your feet—”

He chuckled. “A highly dramatic gesture that helped me come to my senses.”

“—but one of the papers stayed in the box. A paper with a phone number.”

“You called that number?” he guessed, neither the least bit surprised by her impulsiveness nor bothered that she hadn’t returned to give it to him—not in the dark mood he’d been in. But he’d set those old painful memories aside. He’d moved on with his life. And part of moving on meant realizing that Cassidy had never felt about him the way he’d once felt about her. She’d considered him a friend and had never wanted more. He’d been the one who’d once wanted more, but he hadn’t been willing to show her how he’d really felt and risk losing her friendship. But that was all a long time ago.

He was different now, not so afraid to risk what he had to get what he wanted. But had Cassidy changed? Was she still the same person he remembered? Did she see him as the friend he’d once been? Or did she see him as a man with wants and needs and desires?

Cassidy’s sweet voice drew him from his thoughts. “The woman who answered my call asked for a password. I had no idea what she was talking about, so I just read the words off the slip of paper.”

A password? He shoved aside thoughts about the past and concentrated on the present. Cassidy had his full attention. “What password?”

“I can’t remember. The paper’s in my purse in the kitchen, I think.”

Jake retrieved her purse and watched her dig through it. She was starting to recover from her ordeal. Slowly her voice was regaining some strength, her shoulders were slumping less. And he could only admire her courage.

Cassidy had grown up in a secure home with loving parents who’d given her every advantage in life. Yet she wasn’t spoiled. She’d had to live with setbacks and a few hard knocks. After her mother’s death from cancer, she’d shown a resilience that was a testament to Frazier Atkins’s fathering skills. And if the man had become overprotective of his daughter, Jake wouldn’t have blamed him—except that overprotectiveness had sliced Cassidy from Jake’s life.

While Cassidy might be facing her own mortality for the first time, she wasn’t just coping. She was thinking with all eight cylinders. And just like ten years ago, her primary thoughts weren’t revolving around him.

At least she seemed willing and able to keep her thoughts trained on business. Right now, Jake couldn’t afford the distraction of brooding over the past, not when Cassidy’s life might be at stake.

“Here it is!” She handed him the paper. “‘Blow back.’ That’s what I said, and the woman connected me. There was a long wait. Finally a man answered and asked who I worked for.” Cassidy’s eyes suddenly grew wide, her words rushed out with a burst of excitement. “That’s what I couldn’t remember. The man who broke in asked the same exact question as the person at this number. Both wanted to know who I worked for.”

But Cassidy didn’t work for anybody. What the hell was going on?

It could have been a coincidence, but Jake didn’t believe it. He’d spent too long as a detective, too long investigating the seamier side of life on behalf of his clients not to recognize a tenuous connection. Something in that box, someone Cassidy had called, had placed her life in danger.

She’d almost died because she’d done him a favor. “If you hadn’t tried to help me, you wouldn’t be in danger.”

She warily looked at the windows, then squared her shoulders. “The intruder is gone. Who says I’m still in danger?”

“I think your phone call triggered the intruder’s showing up on your doorstep, but he didn’t get what he wanted.”

Cassidy’s forehead wrinkled in a frown. “But I don’t work for anyone. I didn’t know what he wanted.”

“But if he thinks you have the answers he wants, he may come back.” Jake dragged a hand through his hair, weighing possibilities and options.

“Maybe we need to tell the police,” Cassidy suggested.

“We have nothing solid. Even if they believed us, the Crescent Cove police department doesn’t have the manpower to pursue an investigation.” Jake scowled at the thought of law enforcement, of policemen grilling Cassidy and himself about his past, asking questions they couldn’t answer. Jake dialed his cell phone, the paper Cassidy had given him still in his hand. “Harrison, you still have that friend at the phone company?”

Harrison groaned. “It’ll cost me a dinner and dancing.”

“You can use the exercise,” Jake quipped. “I want you to trace this call.” Jake gave Harrison the number. “I’ll pay for the dinner.”

“But how’re you going to pay for my aching feet?”

After Jake hung up, Cassidy looked up at him, her eyes thoughtful. “I think we should go through the box’s contents carefully. Maybe there will be clues that can tell us what’s going on. I know you didn’t want my help, I know you blame my father for not giving you the box ten years ago, but we have to go on. My life may be at stake. I feel as if I’m entitled to see this through. Don’t make me wait alone while you search for answers. Please, Jake?”

He could ignore neither her fear nor her sincerity. And still he hesitated. “You might be in more danger if you help me.”

She countered with direct simplicity. “I feel safer with you than without you.”

Her words brought back that warm glow in his gut, but he suspected she would have said the same to any man who’d saved her. She wasn’t speaking on a personal level of emotion, but out of concern for her physical safety. “You aren’t a qualified detective, Sunshine.”

“I won’t get in your way.”

Negotiations began. And she’d sidestepped the issue of her lack of qualifications. A lawyer tactic. But they weren’t in court. They were out in the real world, a world where the players often had their own set of rules. Rules she wouldn’t fathom. Rules that could get them killed.

While he sensed her determination, he could be just as determined. While he’d offered to let her stay with him for one night, he didn’t want her underfoot, a constant reminder of the hurt she’d caused him in the past, during an investigation that could take days or weeks. “But you won’t take orders, either, Sunshine. You always do what you think is best.”

“Doesn’t everyone?” She didn’t bother to deny his words, and his admiration for her rose another notch.

Jake shook his head, glanced out the window at the palms swaying in the breeze, then back at her. “A client would let me lead the way, since I do have over ten years of experience.”

She fingered the snap on her purse. Her fingers shook slightly and then she balled them into a fist. “You aren’t going to leave me alone. I’m scared like I’ve never been before. That maniac might come back. And this time I might not be lucky enough to be rescued. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder. I want to help you find that man and put him in jail where he belongs.”

She cradled her trembling fist in her other hand, trying to prevent it from shaking, and his heart went out to her. First her mother had died, then her father, leaving her alone in the world. Better than anyone, Jake could empathize with Cassidy. He knew what it was like to be alone, without family. He responded to the fear in her voice by offering another solution, one that would keep her safe, yet at a distance from him. “We could hire a bodyguard. Get you round-the-clock protection.”

Cassidy stood and faced him, her hands on her hips. “That’s not good enough. I don’t want to live like that. So here’s the deal, Jake. Either you let me help you, or…”

“Or what?”

“I’ll hire another private investigator and follow the clues on my own.”

He had no doubt she would do just as she promised. Still, he tested her resolve, made his voice deliberately harsh. “I don’t respond to ultimatums.”

“And I don’t respond to death threats.” Her eyes flashed with anger. “Do we have a deal?”

“MAYBE WE’LL BOTH think better on a full stomach. How about dinner?” Jake asked, his tone polite, his manner reserved.

As he drove her to a local bar and grill, Cassidy tried to think of ways to convince him to let her tag along while he searched for his sisters and for clues as to why she’d been attacked. She knew he’d respond to her fear more than her arguments. Jake had a soft spot for the underdog that she’d exploited with a mercilessness that surprised her. She’d taken advantage of her knowledge of Jake’s past, deliberately allowing her fear to show. Jake had once told her that in the orphanage, he’d helped comfort those kids who needed it, protected them from bullies, always hoping that someone else was protecting his sisters as he protected those close to him. In her fear, she’d shamelessly exploited Jake’s vulnerability, but Cassidy didn’t regret her actions. She hadn’t faked her fear. She could hide her terror if necessary, but she wouldn’t rest easy until the man who’d attacked her was behind bars.

On the way to dinner, she countered Jake’s every argument. She told him she could put her law practice on hold and take several weeks off. She hated to leave her pro bono work at the women’s clinic, but they’d have to manage without her. If she stayed with Jake, her routine would be less predictable.

Entering the restaurant, a place where locals hung out and tourists rarely found, they delayed their discussion while Jimmy Buffet’s music serenaded them with promises of Margaritaville. A waitress seated them next to a window overlooking the parking lot and a two-lane road that wound along the coast. She told them that due to the drought, water was available only upon request. Cassidy took a seat and consulted the menu. She ordered shrimp and—wishing for a glass of wine, but recalling the medic’s instructions not to drink alcohol—a club soda with a lime wedge.

The hot food came promptly. The view might not be great, but the atmosphere and fresh seafood were wonderful.

Cassidy finished off her last spicy shrimp. “Before you came over to my house, did you look through the stuff I brought?”

Jake washed his blackened-grouper sandwich down with sweet tea, then pushed back from the table. “I haven’t read the three diaries my mother left yet. There are several photographs that don’t mean anything to me, but the copies of my sisters’ birth certificates and my parents’ marriage license will provide my chief investigator with a good place to start looking for information.”

Just as Cassidy finished her coffee, Jake’s cell phone rang. He checked the caller identification, then answered. “What have you got, Harrison?”

Cassidy couldn’t hear the other man’s reply, but Jake’s face lit up. “You do? That’s terrific. Hold on.” Jake whipped a pen from his pocket and furiously wrote names and addresses on a napkin. “Has the lady at the telephone company come through? Okay, keep working on it.”

Jake hung up, his face flushed with success, the color high on his sharp cheekbones. “After you left my house, I faxed Harrison copies of my sisters’ birth certificates. He’s traced the adoption records.”

“But they’re sealed.”

“Harrison knows people everywhere. It’s his job to dig out information not readily accessible.”

“So tell me,” she prodded, not in the least surprised by his assistant’s ingenuity. She was sure that Jake ran a sharp operation. That he’d become so successful after starting from nothing made her feel a great deal of pride. And Jake had a gift for friendship. Look how easily she’d accepted his help, just as the orphans had so long ago.

Jake was a natural leader, but he also held himself apart. Sharing had always been difficult for him.

“I have my sisters’ current addresses.” Jake’s voice was infused with happiness and excitement and wonder. “I never expected my search to end so soon.”

“Are you going to call them?” Cassidy asked, enjoying his pleasure and the sparkle of amber light in his eyes, emitting a warmth that wrapped her like a soft blanket. Jake’s sharing anything with her after all these years and showing her his pleasure were a gift. A gift of part of himself.

Jake sighed and threaded a hand through his hair. “I think a letter would be best.”

Such extraordinary patience. That he would be willing to wait to introduce himself to his sisters surprised her. “Why write when you can call?”

“News that my sisters have siblings may come as a shock. A letter will let them adjust gradually to the idea before speaking with me.”

He sounded as if he’d thought through every potentiality. For Jake’s sake, she hoped his sisters responded positively and soon. In his place, she didn’t know if she would be so patient or thoughtful or understanding.

“I’ll leave it up to them if and when to contact me.”

He’d waited so long. She couldn’t believe he didn’t intend to pick up the phone and just call, even if only to hear their voices. Jake also had extraordinary composure. In his place, she would have dialed, too excited to consider the consequences. While Jake had never forgotten his boyhood promise to his father, hadn’t given up his search all these years, he was methodical, careful. But she just couldn’t comprehend how he could bear to wait until they contacted him now that he’d found them. However, Cassidy realized this decision had to be his. She had no right to try to change his mind.

Jake’s eyes narrowed, and he suddenly stood and tossed money on the table. “Let’s go.”

Alarmed by his sudden reversal of tone and demeanor, Cassidy looked past Jake toward the parking lot. Her stomach tightened.

Two men had just pulled up in a four-door sedan. She watched them exit the vehicle. Each man sported a suit and tie.

Jake grabbed Cassidy’s hand. “The bulges beneath their armpits indicate they’re carrying.”

“Carrying?”

“Guns.”

Jake shouldered his way past customers eating with enjoyment, waitresses carrying plates of lobster tails, crab claws and grouper sandwiches, and headed for the rear of the restaurant. Without hesitation she followed, allowing him to pull her into the kitchen.

They hurried past gleaming stainless-steel countertops, a stove with a huge cauldron of soup and a kid sweeping the floor. Jake swiped a bottle of wine off a wire rack and tossed the chef a twenty-dollar bill. The surprised cook shook his head at their crazy antics.

Fear lodged in her throat, Cassidy hurried to keep up with Jake’s long strides. She took a moment to look over her shoulder for their pursuers and slammed into Jake’s broad back. “Sorry.”

He’d halted to open the back door. “Hurry.”

She scooted through the door, realizing now was not the time to ask questions. But Jake had parked his vehicle out front. They’d have to go around the building to reach it, and they’d likely be seen by the men in suits. Cassidy wondered if they were FBI, the mob, hired guns or if one of them was the same man who had tied her to her kitchen chair. She didn’t want to stick around long enough to find out.

She slipped behind the restaurant, next to a Dumpster, and the scent of rotting fish slapped her in the face. The empty lot behind the restaurant provided extra parking for weekend overflow, but she saw no place to hide. Before she could turn and ask Jake where to head next, he’d whacked the neck off the wine bottle, stuffed a handkerchief into the now-open neck and down into the red wine, then urged her around the corner.

“Be ready to run to my car on my signal.” He spoke as calmly as he’d previously ordered their dinner.

How could he remain so calm when her pulse was beating so hard that she had trouble hearing him? Breathless, she inhaled deeply and frowned. “What signal?”

“I’ll tell you. Just be ready.”

When the men in suits reached the back door, Jake lit the handkerchief with a lighter and tossed it toward the Dumpster.

“Now! Go.”

Cassidy raced along the side of the restaurant toward the parking lot and Jake’s car.