by Rita Herron
Now she understood. He’d devoted himself to protecting others instead of taking care of himself.
Admiration stirred, along with an attraction Cora couldn’t deny. In the face of a crisis and when she’d needed him most, Drew had bailed.
But Jacob was here now. Protecting. Serving. As determined to unearth the truth as she was.
Kurt had been kind. Had vowed to help her. Had wanted more than she could give.
Because even in his kindness he hadn’t heated her blood.
Not like Jacob.
He was so sexy that for the first time in years, she yearned for closeness with a man. Not just a man. Jacob.
He was kind. Caring. Loving.
His tenderness warmed her heart and made her feel as if she wasn’t alone. As if she mattered. It gave her hope.
And his touch was so soothing that she craved his hands everywhere on her body.
Caught up in the feelings, she traced a finger along his strong jaw. His brown eyes darkened to black. His breath quickened. He leaned toward her.
She cupped his face in her hands and closed her lips over his.
* * *
JACOB HAD NEVER felt anything so sensual and sweet and tantalizing as Cora’s tentative kiss. He should stop it, but reason gave way to passion.
He’d wanted to do this forever.
At first, in a comforting gesture. But the more he got to know Cora, the more he’d come to admire her strength and perseverance. She didn’t deserve to beat herself up for not taking care of her friends when she’d been in the most horrible pain a parent could possibly fathom.
His own mother had crumbled after their father’s death. She’d had health concerns before, but grief had taken its toll and her heart had given out. He’d always thought she died of heartsickness.
Cora’s hand against his cheek urged him to deepen the kiss, and he traced his tongue along the seam of her mouth and probed inside. She parted her lips and accepted his sensual exploration, his chest constricting at her moan of pleasure.
He wanted more. To taste her neck and strip her clothes and touch her all over. To bring her enough pleasure to erase her fear and sadness.
She lifted her hand and threaded her fingers in his hair, and he gently pushed a strand of hair from her cheek. Her quick intake of breath suggested she liked his touch, so he lowered his head and trailed tender kisses along her throat. She tilted her head backward, allowing him deeper access, and he slid one arm behind her head to pull her closer.
Her chest rose and fell against his as their bodies touched, igniting his desire. She planted kisses on his cheek and drew him closer as he teased her earlobes and the swell of her breasts.
His body hardened. Her breathing turned raspy, and she ran her hands down his back, stroking him, firing his need.
Hunger burst inside him, and he trailed his fingers along her neck to her shoulder, then lower. But just as he started to cover her breast with one hand, a knock sounded at the door.
Jacob froze, reality interceding. Cora leaned her head against his. For a moment they stayed that way, heads touching, breathing erratic, need still simmering between them.
The knock echoed again.
“I’ll get it.” Jacob slowly pulled away, but tilted Cora’s head to face him. “You okay?”
Her face flushed. “I’m sorry.”
He bit back a comment, then strode to the door. When he opened it, his deputy stood on the other side. “You wanted me to pick up something to take to the lab?”
Jacob gestured toward the table, then retrieved the gift basket. When he glanced at the sofa, Cora had disappeared into her bedroom.
Dammit, he didn’t want her to have regrets. He wanted to kiss her again. Most of all, he wanted her to want him to kiss her again.
But that wasn’t fair and he knew it.
“What’s going on with the basket?” his deputy asked.
Jacob explained about Cora’s allergy and the fact that the card had been misleading. “I need to know who sent this. I’m going to get Liam to follow up on it.”
“Do you think someone knew about her allergy?” Martin asked.
Good question. “It’s possible. Especially considering someone tried to kill her by shooting at her.”
Martin angled his body toward Jacob. “By the way, the lab called about the ballistics.”
Jacob raised a brow. “And?”
“The bullet casings from Ms. Reeves’s car match the one the ME removed from Kurt Philips’s body.”
Chapter Seventeen
Jacob’s stomach clenched. “That means the same person who killed Kurt shot at Cora.”
“They’re still working on his computer,” Martin said. “But Griff called and said the crime team recovered a key of some sort. They’re trying to figure out what it goes to now.”
“Did he have an office or home safe?”
“They didn’t find one.”
“How about his vehicle?” Jacob asked.
“A black SUV. The back window was busted out. Whoever set the fire must have looked through it.”
“To get rid of evidence linking him or her to Philips’s death.”
“Exactly.” Martin shifted.
“Find out if Philips had a safety deposit box,” Jacob said. “Maybe he hid some documents or files inside.”
“On it.” Martin carried the basket to the door and left. As he drove away, Jacob heard the shower in Cora’s bath.
He forced himself to banish images of Cora naked beneath the spray of water and ordered his libido under control.
Finding Kurt’s killer might mean saving Cora’s life, so he had to focus on the investigation, not on his personal needs. Maybe there’d be time for that later.
He retrieved his laptop from his car, brought it inside and booted it up, then connected to the police database.
His conversation with Cora echoed in his head. If the gift basket was sent by the same person who’d shot at Cora, that person knew about her allergy.
Her ex-husband certainly had. And he was smart enough to create a fake account for a flower order. He texted Liam and asked him to follow up on the order from the flower shop.
Drew’s wife, Hilary, would also have known about the allergy. And Cora’s friend, Julie. Although Julie had her own child and hadn’t adopted, so she had no motive to take Cora’s baby.
The pediatric nurse was a possibility. She could have gained access to Cora’s medical records and learned about her allergy through her files.
Liam was investigating Evie, so he decided to check out Faye Fuller.
She’d saved Cora’s life with the EpiPen, but she could have sent the basket, then had second thoughts and changed her mind about hurting Cora.
He entered her name and ran a background search. No arrests, outstanding warrants or charges. Not even a speeding ticket.
According to Cora, Faye was frightened of her ex. He did some digging in search of the husband, but didn’t find records that she’d ever been married.
He checked records for domestic violence reports and found nothing on anyone related to a Faye Fuller.
Interesting.
He continued searching, hoping to find adoption records, although the adoption could have been closed. Or...what if she hadn’t obtained Nina legally?
Curious and determined to explore every avenue, he removed a handkerchief from his pocket, picked up the glass Faye had used and bagged it. He’d send it to the lab to run for prints and find out exactly who Faye Fuller was.
If she was lying to Cora, he wanted to know the reason.
* * *
AS SHE SHOWERED, Cora silently chided herself for kissing Jacob. She’d never made a move on a man before, but she hadn’t been able to stop herself from that kiss.
She’d slowly begun to think of Jacob as
more than the sheriff. As a friend. Maybe as a lover?
You don’t have time for sex or romance. Your daughter is missing. And the man who was looking for her was murdered.
Yet the two attempts on her life now made her realize she wanted to live. Not just go through the motions. For so long, she’d cut herself off from caring about anyone.
It had hurt too much to lose Alice and then Drew. She didn’t think she’d survive if she lost anyone else.
Being alone had been the answer.
She dressed in clean jeans and a T-shirt, ran a brush through her hair, then studied herself in the mirror. Her cheeks were still flushed. Her eyes looked...needy.
It’s okay to care, she whispered to herself. You deserve love.
But fear hacked at her resolve.
Jacob risked his life every day on the job. His father had died protecting others. While it was admirable, it also meant he might not come home at night. That every time he stepped out the door, he was endangering his life.
She had to keep her distance. They’d find Alice. Then she and her daughter would build a life together.
Jacob would focus on work again. Hopefully he’d even find out who set that fire and killed his father, then he and his brothers would have closure.
The sound of voices drifted to her from the living room. Was Jacob talking to someone?
Determined to refrain from throwing herself at him, she stepped through the doorway.
Jacob gripped his phone in his hand, but he wasn’t talking on it. He had turned on the news. “This is a special report featuring missing persons’ cases across the Southeast,” the reporter said. “First we’re beginning with this story which originally aired five years ago from Whistler, North Carolina.”
Her heart jumped to her throat at the sight of the reporter displaying her photograph and the caption about Alice’s disappearance. Cora’s heart ached as she listened to the reporter recount the details of the hospital fire and Alice’s abduction.
“We have established a tip line for viewers who have information regarding the cases we’re featuring today and throughout this special series,” the reporter said. “But first we’re asking viewers to look at these projected images of what Alice Reeves Westbrook would look like over the years.”
A wave of sadness mingled with hope as Cora watched. What if she had the images wrong?
The sketch faintly resembled Nina although they also resembled a couple of other little girls she’d taught.
When the latest sketch was displayed and the tip line number flashed on the screen, she had to grip the table edge to steady her legs.
She’d been down this road five years ago. This time had to be different.
* * *
JACOB WANTED TO alleviate the pain in Cora’s eyes, but finding Alice was the only way she’d have peace.
He phoned Liam to request information on Faye and Nina’s adoption.
“On it,” Liam said. “I have news on Evie Hanson. Her mother lives about thirty miles from Whistler in a retirement community. I’m forwarding you her address.”
“Anything on that adoption?”
“Not yet. My forensic account is reviewing Ms. Hanson’s financials. Looks like she withdrew about ten thousand dollars from her account around the time she adopted that little girl Twyla.”
Ten thousand—to pay for legal fees or to buy a baby illegally?
“Did she get the child at an agency or through a private adoption?”
“Haven’t determined that yet, but I’m working on it. Maybe her mother can shed some light on the situation.”
“I’ll drive out and talk to her now.” He didn’t want to waste a minute. If Evie had illegally obtained Twyla, she might be on the run.
He hung up and found Cora watching him. “Is there news?” Cora asked.
He explained about Evie’s mother, Adelaide Evans. “I’m going to see her.”
“I’ll go with you.”
His gaze was drawn to her pale pink mouth, and memories of that kiss taunted him. He wanted to kiss her again. Promise her that he’d take care of everything. “Maybe you should stay here and rest,” Jacob suggested. “And be sure to activate the security system. Faye seems to have just walked in.”
“I’m going,” Cora said. “If she’s reluctant to talk to you, maybe I can connect with her as a mother.”
True.
She grabbed her purse and he snagged his keys, then they walked outside to his vehicle. With dusk approaching, the wind whistled off the river and cast shadows from the spiny needles of the pines across her drive and yard, which resembled long bony fingers.
Cora rubbed her arm as if to calm her nerves as he drove around the mountain. He followed his GPS onto the winding road toward the cluster of assisted living homes called Shady Oak. The mayor had spearheaded the development when his father had been diagnosed with Parkinson’s. A small café, store, park and activity center added a community feel for the residents.
Silence stretched thick between him and Cora as he drove, and he forced his eyes on the road and his mind on the job so he wouldn’t touch her. The SUV bounced over the ruts in the road, and he slowed to avoid a possum as he neared the turnoff to the holler.
He maneuvered the turn into the development, passed a place called The Club, where residents gathered to play games and other communal activities. Three white-haired men sat around an old whiskey barrel, engrossed in a checkers game while several women worked on a quilt on the porch.
A young woman walked beside an elderly man in a garden by the park, and wheelchair residents were gathered by a pond.
“It looks like a nice facility,” Cora commented as he parked in front of Evie’s mother’s cottage.
“It has a good reputation.” He and Cora climbed out and walked up to the front porch. A tiny woman with a gray bun sat in a rocking chair on the front porch, her gnarled hands working knitting needles back and forth.
“Ms. Evans?” Jacob asked.
The woman dropped the needles in her lap, then tilted her head to the side. Her eyes looked glazed slightly, as if she couldn’t quite focus on him. Then he realized she was blind.
“Who’s there?” she called.
“It’s Sheriff Maverick from Whistler, and I have a friend with me. A woman named Cora Reeves.” Jacob climbed the steps slowly, so as to not startle the elderly woman.
Her rocking chair went still. “What’s wrong?” she said in a harsh whisper. “Did something happen to Evie?”
Jacob stooped down in front of the woman, his instincts alert. “Ms. Evans, why would you think something happened to your daughter?”
The woman lifted a trembling hand to her mouth as if she’d said something she shouldn’t have. “I... I don’t know, motherly instinct, I suppose.” She fidgeted with the knitting needles. “Besides, you’ve never come to see me before, Sheriff, so something has to be wrong.” She angled her head as if staring at Jacob. “Now, where’s my daughter?”
Jacob cleared his throat. “That’s what I was hoping you could tell me.”
Ms. Evan’s lower lip quivered. “I don’t know,” she said in a voice that warbled. “But I’m worried.”
“When did you last talk to her?” Jacob asked.
“That’s just it,” Ms. Evans said. “She was supposed to stop by and visit today. But she never showed up and she didn’t call.”
“Does she usually let you know if she’s not coming?” Jacob asked.
“Yes, Evie is always dependable. She...knows I get lonely here. I live for visits from her and my granddaughter.”
Jacob exchanged a look with Cora. “Do you have a number where I can reach her?”
The little woman nodded, then pulled a phone from her pocket. “She programmed it in here for me after I lost my sight.”
Jacob took the phone from her w
hile Cora sat down in the rocker beside the woman.
“I’m so worried about her,” Ms. Evans said. “Two days ago, she called and was upset.”
“What was she upset about?” Cora asked.
She gathered her knitting in one hand. “She was supposed to adopt a little boy, but it didn’t work out.”
“Did she explain what happened?”
“No, but she was devastated. And she...sounded scared, but she wouldn’t say of what.”
Was she frightened because the police were asking questions about her daughter’s adoption?
Chapter Eighteen
Cora knelt by the woman to comfort her. “I’m sorry, Ms. Evans.”
“Honey, call me Adelaide. No one calls me Ms. Evans anymore.”
Cora gave her an understanding look. “I know you’re worried about your daughter and granddaughter,” she said, compassion for the woman filling her. “You can trust Sheriff Maverick. He’s a good guy. He’s been trying to help me find my missing daughter.”
“What did you say your name was, dear?”
“Cora Reeves,” Cora said.
Adelaide pressed a hand to her chest. “Oh my goodness. You’re that woman they were talking about on the news earlier, aren’t you? The one with the baby named Alice?”
Sensing the woman’s agitation, Cora patted her hand. “Yes, ma’am. I’ve been looking for her for a long time.”
Adelaide inhaled. “I remember your story from when it first aired,” she said in a strained voice. “Your baby disappeared about the same time Evie was told she couldn’t conceive.” Her voice lowered. “That was an awful time.”
“Yes, it was,” Cora said, her gaze meeting Jacob’s. “I gave birth to my daughter the night of the fire, and she was stolen during the chaos.”
Adelaide reached for her hand. “My daughter and I prayed for you back then,” she said. “Evie was so upset that she couldn’t have kids that she cried and cried for you, and then it was like a miracle. This woman she met in her support group called her and told her about this adoption. At first she was hesitant. She wanted to have a child of her own.” Adelaide rubbed her chest. “But I told her that love doesn’t come from genetics. It’s in your heart.”
