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Secretive Stranger

Page 13

by Jennifer Greene


  Still, he was edgy now, too antsy to concentrate. He hiked across the hall to rap on Sophie’s door again. No response. Damn cat hadn’t even shown his face. No light reflected under her door, either.

  He’d barely crossed back into Jon’s apartment before hearing that faint thumping. It was real, not in his head. It was just so faint and sporadic. It made no…But it did make sense, he suddenly realized, and charged across the living room. Sophie and Jon’s apartments shared a common wall, the internal wall affecting both the living and computer rooms in Jon’s place. He thumped on his side.

  Waited.

  And there it was. An answering thump.

  Then nothing. No further response. Nothing from the other side, no matter how hard he pounded from either the living room or computer walls. Frantic now, he realized he had no key to Sophie’s place, no way to get in. Calling the police was an obvious choice, but not fast enough. Something was wrong, he knew it. Something was really wrong.

  He started toward her place again, then spun around, hustled into the kitchen to paw through his brother’s tray of spare keys. He’d forgotten. Sophie had said Jon took care of her stuff when she was gone, so her apartment key could well be in the mess of others.

  He scooped up the three that looked like door keys, chased across the hall, tried the first, failed. Tried the second, got in, called, “Sophie?”

  When she didn’t answer him this time, he put on steam, following the east inner wall of her place, checking the bathroom, then into the bedroom where they’d spent that extraordinarily unforgettable night…God, the memory of her wildly coming apart in his arms was sealed in his mind like a secret he’d never give up. Heart drumming hard now, he scanned the room, the wall…the closed closet door.

  The mental click was instantaneous. Sophie, being Sophie, would never have tidily closed her closet door. He tried the knob, readily discovered the lock had been pushed in, and turned it.

  The damn cat flew from the darkness, pausing only long enough to brush against him. “Soph…” He didn’t see her, wasn’t sure if it was just the cat who’d been locked in the closet who’d made those thumping sounds, but a patchwork splash of color on the closet floor snagged his gaze.

  He crouched down.

  She was all curled up, motionless, her arms wrapped tighter around her knees than a taped-up package. Her face had no more color than a doll, and although her eyes were open, they were haunted dark, glazed with shock.

  Her lips parted once, then twice. “I didn’t think anyone would find me,” she said hoarsely.

  “I’d always find you,” he said quickly, correcting her. “Come here, baby.”

  “I’m okay.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Really. I’m okay.”

  She was okay, all right. Like someone who’d been hit by a bus was okay. Her eyes met his-her gaze hooked on his and wouldn’t let go-but she was so frozen in that fetal position that she might as well have been painted there. In his head, Cord started swearing, every four-letter word he knew, strung together like magnets. But that was just in his head.

  “We’ll just go at this slow,” he murmured.

  Since she seemed to be having trouble moving, he did the obvious, crawled in there with her. He ducked through the clothes, through the shoes and bags and girl debris on the closet floor, and then just pulled her into him, onto him. Her skin was colder than ice. He sat there in the stupid closet, with her clothes dancing around his head and her shoes kicking him in the spine-but it wasn’t as if he cared about that crap.

  Her skin started warming up the minute he had her wrapped up on his lap. Her cheek crashed into his shoulder. She didn’t unlock her arms, her knees, but she burrowed into him as if he were a nest. Her nest. Her one safe place in an unbearably dangerous world.

  “I’ll be fine,” she said, into his shoulder. “I just need another couple seconds.”

  “Hey, we can stay here all night if you want. We can order in. I’ll bet Chinese delivers to closets.” He kissed the top of her head, her temple. Not come-on kisses. Not even kisses for her. He knew damn well they were kisses for him, selfish kisses, self-centered kisses-his need to be able to kiss her, his need to be the one who was there for her whenever the monsters showed up. Any monsters. Anytime, anywhere.

  She snuggled so close, she seemed to be trying to glue herself to his chest, his lap, his arms. He stroked slowly, gently, down her hair, down her back. Gradually, her heartbeat slowed to a gallop, which was definitely progress-but worry nagged at him. It was starting to feel normal, sitting in the dark, cramped closet, with her clothes all over his face. Well, not normal. But it was okay. He could have stayed there for hours. Because it was her. Something about Sophie had rearranged his head, his heart, his life, starting from about three seconds after he met her.

  Eventually, she found her voice. “I guess it’s a little late to keep it a secret. I don’t do real well in trapped places.”

  “I think you’re doing great. Any chance you got a look at who did this, Soph?” He kept his voice casual, easy. He didn’t want her to know that he had murder on his mind, but right then, he knew he was capable of it.

  “No. I didn’t even guess anyone was in the apartment.” Her voice was still shaky with shock. “I never heard anything. I came home earlier than usual by several hours. Maybe that was the thing. That the person knew my schedule, chose a time when I wasn’t supposed to be home…”

  The damn cat had parked in the closet doorway, was just sitting there, eyes glowing on Cord as if accusing him of something. The feline suddenly, furiously washed his leg, then went back to that vigilant sitting posture.

  “The person…hit me in the back with something. I was thrown off-balance, knocked into the clothes. Then I was hit again. Then I heard the door lock. Then…”

  He heard the streak of fear building in her voice, intervened. “Okay, that’s enough. Let’s get out of here. Call the cops-”

  “No.”

  When he started to move, she clutched him even tighter, so he backed off. Even knowing it was nuts to just sit there, still, he held her, still, he warmed and soothed. “All right, Soph. There’s no hurry. We don’t have to call the police until you’re ready to-”

  “I don’t care about the police! All this time, stuff keeps happening, and they haven’t really done a darn thing! I want my sister!”

  “Okay, okay, Soph-”

  “I need to feel safe. I need to be safe.”

  He stroked, stroked some more. She wasn’t hysterical. She was just…afraid.

  What killed him was how he totally understood. A sister would help her feel safer than a cop-because from day one, the cops had done nothing to protect her. They were so damn dumb, they couldn’t recognize the innocent from the guilty, for Pete’s sake.

  But that Sophie wanted a sister instead of him ripped at Cord’s heart.

  He’d failed her. All his life, he’d been a problem solver, a doer. Yet now, when something really mattered, when someone he loved was in harm’s way, he’d failed to act. He’d been spinning plenty of wheels, but not fast enough, not effectively enough, to prevent Sophie from being hurt.

  “Cord,” Sophie said desperately.

  “Yeah. We’re getting you out of here. We’re taking you to a place where you’ll feel safe, where you’ll be safe. Right now,” he promised her.

  Chapter 10

  Sophie woke up in the strangest dream. She was in a room she’d never seen before. A huge bay window looked over a giant maple in full fall color, its apricot leaves gilded by a blinding midday sun. The room had been decorated à la L.L. Bean. Plank floors were polished to a high gleam. The bed was big enough for Lincoln, with double-size pillows, dark sheets and comforter, and a mighty serious mattress.

  The dresser looked like old oak, scarred and unique and interesting. Change was scattered across the dresser, along with a man’s belt. Glass doors led outside to a semicircular deck. She could see a single Adirondack chair on it, a pair of
binoculars on the deck edge.

  She pushed up on her elbows, trying to fathom where on earth she was-but that small movement brought reality crashing down on her. Pain startled her. Her whole back felt tender and swollen with bruises. Last night came back in a rush of mental snapshots. Cord finding her. Cord furious with the police. Cord locking up and feeding Caviar and hustling her into his car. Cord seeing the welts on her back, swearing, swearing more, bringing her a pill and something to drink and…

  The bedroom door abruptly opened. Adding shock on shock, there was her sister, striding in with a tray.

  “You,” Cate said, “are going to eat. My God, I thought you’d never wake up. Don’t worry about Pruitt. He’s in the other room, pacing around, yelling at people on the phone. As if that’s enough for all the trouble he’s gotten you into. Don’t you worry. I’ll take care of him-”

  “Wait, wait. How could you be there? When did you get here? What-”

  “No questions for you. No stress. You eat. Then rest. And those are orders.”

  She’d seen Cate and Lily both last Christmas. Cate never changed. The sisters were all blond, but Cate wore her hair wash-and-wear chopped off, and she was typically dressed in worn-out, snug jeans and a skinny long-sleeve T. Cate looked sexy when she woke up, when she went to bed, when she had the flu, when she dressed up and when she didn’t. She attracted men just by breathing. It was the way she moved, the way she was and who she was.

  Cate was blustery strong, but right now she had circles under her eyes bigger than boats. She obviously hadn’t slept all night.

  Sophie kept trying to grasp how her sister could be here.

  “Cord actually called you?”

  “Don’t waste your time making out like he’s a hero. He’s in big trouble with me. Big capital-H huge.”

  “He actually called you?”

  “Called. Checked the airlines, paid for an immediate flight, had a car waiting for me at Logan, and a driver waiting to take me here. And yeah, that was nice. Not nice enough to justify putting my sister in danger. But I admit, it was reasonably decent of him.”

  “Good God, how many are we feeding?” Sophie asked, when she saw the contents on the tray.

  “Just you. And don’t even try arguing with me.”

  The tray was terrorizing. The omelet alone was big enough to feed a platoon, fluffy and pretty and stuffed with a half-dozen delicacies. Wedges of fresh fruit filled another plate. Muffins, pulled open and steaming, were dripping with melted honey.

  “Now I know you’re really here. Only you can cook like this,” Sophie said, suddenly feeling a sting of tears.

  “Of course I’m here.” Cate pulled up a straight chair. “I’ll give Pruitt credit for one more thing. He didn’t even blink when I told him I was shopping for real food in the middle of the night-on his credit card.

  “But back to the stuff that matters. Damn it, Sophie, you should have told me how scary things had gotten. All I knew about was the guy who died, not that the situation had boomeranged into danger for you. Now listen to me. I have a contract for a job in Baja. I’ve got a little leeway on time, but really have to get it in gear inside of two weeks. So you’re going with me.”

  Sophie’s jaw almost dropped, but that was a mistake. Cate motioned with a regal finger, indicating that anytime her mouth was open, food was supposed to go in. Eating was hardly a hardship, when Cate was the best chef in the universe.

  “I need the money, Soph. And I have to admit, it’d be legally hard for me to break the contract, besides. But you know what? It’ll be okay. You just come with me. You’ll love it. It’s a big old luxury yacht. I talked it over with Lily early this morning. She wants you, too, but that’s silly. She’s teaching all day, while you can be with me full-time.”

  “You both are wonderful. But I’m not going with either of you. I need to be here.”

  Cate studied her, then sighed. “All right, then. I’ll give up the job.”

  “Of course you won’t. That’s dumb.”

  “You come first.”

  “You come first, too. But…” Sophie gulped. “I never dreamed Cord would actually bring you here. I mean, yesterday was awful. I was traumatized times ten, talking off the top of my head about how much I needed family. But I was just having a meltdown. I didn’t mean it, Cate. I know you and Lily both have your jobs, your lives, and you can’t just take off. This’ll all get resolved. It has to get resolved. I just…”

  Her voice trailed off when she suddenly saw Cord in the doorway.

  She forgot the welts on her back. Forgot being trapped in the closet yesterday. Forgot just about everything…but him. He looked wrinkled and worn, as if he’d slept in his jeans, hadn’t brushed his hair in hours.

  He looked so good that her heart melted like Jell-O. He’d actually gotten her sister. He’d yelled at the cops for her. He’d been caretaking her as if…well, as if he adored her. As if she were the treasure and he was her personal pirate.

  “Oh, no,” Cate said, with an exasperated glance at the two of them. “No lovey-dovey crap while I’m here. You-” the royal finger waggled at Cord “-out in the living room. And you.” The royal finger motioned back to her. “You eat. While your Mr. Pruitt and I are going to have a little chat together.”

  Cord had the amused sensation of being herded by a magpie. Sophie’s sister couldn’t tip the scales much past a hundred pounds soaking wet, but when it came to protecting family, she was a downright lioness.

  “What in the hell have you gotten my little sister involved in?”

  Cord walked past the living room, which looked as if a cyclone had blown through it, aimed for the kitchen. His Georgetown place hadn’t seen this much chaos since he’d moved in two years before. And as far as answering Cate, there wasn’t a lot of point. He’d covered the whole story when she arrived in the middle of the night.

  She’d third-degreed him until well past 4:00 a.m., after which she went shopping for groceries and started cooking. Neither had had any sleep, but Cate was still pumping adrenaline. Cord took one look at the kitchen and just shook his head. He didn’t know he even had this many dishes. She was close to a one-woman riot.

  Cord wasn’t sure whether to start with a broom or a shovel.

  “You don’t know about Sophie,” she railed at him. “She used to be this effervescent little pain in the butt. Full of herself. Laughing, stealing all the attention, throwing tantrums if she didn’t get her way. Just a god-awful baby sister. But after the fire, when we all lost each other…you just can’t imagine. This old couple took her in. They loved her, but only on their terms. They only wanted a quiet little girl, someone who never caused trouble, never made noise. She changed. She changed to accommodate who she had to be, so she’d have a home, so she’d be loved. Are you hearing me?”

  “I’m hearing you,” Cord said. He had to give her credit. She barreled into the mess right next to him. She even took on the egg-crusted pan.

  “I didn’t know all that. But when Lily and I finally reconnected and tracked Sophie down again, she was a shell. All closed up. Well-behaved. Damn it. She’s still well-behaved. Are you hearing me?”

  The deaf could have heard her. She was cute, Cord thought. Not as striking as Sophie. Not as subtle. Not the woman who made his heart thud and pound and race. But he wouldn’t mind if she were the aunt for his kids.

  Not that he was thinking about marriage.

  First he needed to keep Sophie alive long enough to ask her.

  Staying alive himself might be handy, as well.

  Cate took the sponge out of his hand, all but pushing him away from the sink. God knew, he was willing to help clean up. She’d been making a feast to tempt Soph. But apparently to Cate a kitchen was a kingdom. It wasn’t about work. It was about power. Who knew?

  “Now, let me tell you how this is going to be,” Cate said. “I’ll get around to leaving after a day or so. If. If you make sure my sister is in no more danger. I don’t care how or why, I just wan
t the murderer or thief or whoever’s been behind all this stuff behind bars. And as long as you swear that you’ll keep Sophie safe, I won’t even ask what your intentions are-”

  “My intentions are less than honorable, and have been from the minute I met her.”

  “Oh. Well. That helps some.” Cate was clearly mollified for a moment. “In spite of all this mess, I have to admit, she does seem…happier. Even a little zesty. Impossible. Even moments of silliness.”

  “I take it these are good qualities?” Cord wasn’t sure.

  “Damn good. But if I have to come back here, I’m bringing Lily. And believe me, you don’t want to mess with the pair of us. If you can’t get the job done, just say it straight right now. I’ll take her with me.”

  Cord had enjoyed the whole exchange, but he had to get serious before it went too far. “She stays with me.”

  Cate’s chin tilted up. “That’s not up to you.”

  “Yeah, it is,” he said quietly. “She’s not leaving my sight. I’m as unhappy about her being threatened as you are. But as much as you love her, you don’t know about the people we’re dealing with. She stays with me.”

  Cate took a step toward him, her eyes narrowed as if she were just warming up to a good, long, down-and-dirty argument-when both of them heard the bedroom door open. Sophie padded in barefoot, carrying the tray. Her eyes lit up when she spotted the two of them together.

  “Oh, good,” she said. “I was hoping you two would have a chance to get to know each other.”

  “Don’t you worry,” Cate said.

  “Yeah, we’re getting along like a house afire,” Cord assured her.

  Sophie thankfully believed them. Her sister being there was better than a shot of joy juice, as far as Cord could tell. The two chattered nonstop, talking at the same time, arguing at the same time, sat on his deck draped in blankets, sat hip-to-hip for a three-hanky romance movie that night.

  Cord talked to Bassett. To Ferrell. To a security company. Hunkered in front of a laptop with one of his brother’s portable hard drives, then on the Net, searching for anything on the names they already had, trying to find more evidence, more information, anything new linking someone to his brother’s death or Sophie’s break-ins.

 

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