by Brenda Novak
* * *
Jonathan had to get out of bed. In February, his parents had gone to their hometown in Iowa, to nurse his mother’s dad back to health following a moderate stroke, and they were still there. His sister was spending Mother’s Day with her in-laws. So it wasn’t as if he had to dedicate much time to the family today. But a call was imperative, especially since he’d only mailed his mother’s card yesterday. With the week he’d just had, it was surprising he’d remembered it at all.
Raising his head to see the clock, he yawned. “I gotta get up.”
Kino seemed to agree. He nudged Jonathan with his wet nose, no doubt ready to go out.
“Already?” Zoe was sleeping half on top of him. They’d made love twice since he’d carried her back into the bedroom. And now that he was finally sated, he was beginning to feel guilty. What was he doing? Even if she could give him the “more” he was looking for, he wasn’t sure he’d be satisfied with it. He was in love with someone else.
As incredible as the sex had been, he was an asshole for touching Zoe, and he knew it.
“I have about fifteen minutes to reach my mom or she’s going to burst into tears,” he said. “And then my dad will call me to tell me how disappointed he is that I didn’t show more consideration. At which point, I’ll explain that I’ve been busy, but neither of them will understand because they haven’t seen busy in a long time.”
“Oh. Right. You’d better call her, then.” She moved off him and buried herself in the blankets, and he knew he needed to get her up and dressed before she slipped into such a deep depression she couldn’t get up. She was teetering dangerously close. There’d been a fatalistic abandon in her lovemaking this morning that hadn’t been there last night, a recklessness that suggested she didn’t care as much about her own life as she should.
She had a lot to face, but she needed to face it, or matters would only get worse.
He pulled on his boxers and a pair of jeans. “Ready to grab a shower?”
“Not especially. If you’ve got stuff to do, go ahead. I’ll wait here,” came her muttered response.
She needed a purpose, something to do for Sam’s sake. “I’ve got another idea.”
Her head popped out of the covers. “What?” she said, but it wasn’t a hopeful what. It was a “if you’re not staying in bed, leave me alone” what.
“Let’s go over to the hospital to see Toby. I’m sure his parents could use a break. We can sit with him while Mr. Simpson takes his wife out for brunch.”
She rubbed the sleep from her eyes but continued to watch him with an uncertain expression. “I’m sure they have other family members.”
“Who might also like a break. What do you say?” he prompted.
“What can I say?” she replied.
He smiled. “You’ll feel better in a bit. Towels and washcloths are in the hall.” He thumped the closet door to show her where as he and Kino passed through to the kitchen.
“Got it,” she said, but he barely heard the response and didn’t follow up on it.
It was going to be a hot day in Sacramento. At eleven the sun was bearing down on his glass door, heating up the kitchen.
He let Kino out in the backyard, then called his mom, who was fortunately in a great mood. He promised to take her to her favorite crepe place once she got home, then visited with his father for a few minutes and, having fulfilled his familial obligations, felt slightly less guilt-ridden about taking advantage of someone with as little to lose as Zoe. He’d make it up to her somehow, be more restrained in the future. It’d just been too long for him; that was all. And she was such an attractive woman.
He fed Kino and was heading back to the bedroom to see why she wasn’t up when his BlackBerry rang. Caller ID indicated it was Sheridan.
He hesitated, wondering if he should pick up. He hadn’t spoken to her since that short encounter at The Last Stand the day he’d found out about Sam. But they couldn’t avoid each other forever. It wasn’t even fair of him to try. It wasn’t as if she’d cheated on him or given him false hope. He hadn’t even made his feelings clear. He’d been too busy waiting, expecting it to happen when she was ready.
He supposed he should answer the phone, get this over with.
With a silent curse, he ducked back into the kitchen and hit the Talk button. “Hello?”
“Hi.”
“Hi,” he said. “What’s up?”
“This is a friendly reminder to call your mother.”
He chuckled. “Thanks, but I’m ahead of the game. I just hung up with her.”
“Good. How is she?”
“Tired of being away from home, but Grandpa’s almost back on his feet.”
“Will he still be able to live on his own?”
“Looks that way.”
“That’s a relief.”
“He’s a stubborn old guy.”
“Reminds me of someone else I know.”
“Me? Stubborn?” he said.
She laughed softly. “Skye told me that you’re helping Zoe Duncan find her daughter.”
“I’m trying.”
“That doesn’t sound too encouraging. It’s not going well?”
“Not as well as we’d like.”
“If you can’t find her, no one can, Jon. You’re the best.”
“There isn’t a lot to go on.” He opened the back door to let the dog back in and missed her response.
“You having dinner with your folks today?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Cain and I just took them to breakfast. My sister and her husband are in town, too, so they brought the baby.”
He couldn’t help feeling he should’ve been there instead of Cain. “Sounds like a nice family outing.”
She paused as if she’d picked up on his sarcasm. “It was nice.”
“What’re you working on these days at The Last Stand?” he asked to cover his gaffe.
“An odd case.”
“Tell me about it.”
“My client believes he once had a second younger sister.”
“What does he think happened to her?”
“He claims his mother might’ve killed her, but he has only some bizarre memories to support that theory.”
“He can’t afford a P.I.?”
“No, and it’s such a long shot the police won’t touch it.”
“What does the living sister say?”
“She corroborates part of his story.”
“But you don’t believe them?”
“I haven’t decided. It’s not exactly common for a mother to kill her own child. And with the few who do, the crime generally doesn’t go undetected for twenty-some years. It’s almost too incredible to be true, isn’t it?”
“Anything’s possible. Just when we think we’ve seen it all, we’re surprised again.”
“That’s why I’m taking the case, doing what I can to look into the matter. If I can prove it’s not true, maybe he can achieve some peace of mind. And if it is true, maybe I can bring him closure. Regardless, I could use help on the investigative end when you’re available.”
“It might be a while.”
“I meant when the Duncan case is over.”
“I’ve got quite a few other cases going.” Which was true. His voice mail was full. He had yet to sort through his messages.
There was a short pause. “You’ve always had time for me before.”
“I’ve never been this busy before.”
“You don’t want to work with me anymore, do you?”
He muttered a silent curse. “That isn’t true.”
“Yes, it is.”
He didn’t deny it again. Silence fell between them, but he could hear Zoe moving around and wanted to get off the phone. “I’d better go,” he said.
“Jon?”
He hesitated. “Yes?”
“Why are you being so shitty to me all of a sudden?”
“I’m not. I’m just…working.”
“Cain said som
ething to me last night that…that made me wonder if maybe I’ve misinterpreted our relationship.”
Oh, no…“Cain came back into your life a few months ago after being out of it for twelve years, and now he’s a specialist on our friendship?”
“That’s just it. He says it doesn’t sound like friendship. It sounds as if—” her voice dropped, letting him know she was embarrassed to be so bold, but equally determined to forge ahead “—well, he says you must be in love with me.”
Jonathan’s breath whooshed out as though she’d slugged him. After all the years he’d hidden his feelings, here it was, the moment of truth.
He wanted to deny it. But he was pretty sure she’d see his lie for what it was. Skye knew how he felt and might’ve mentioned it to her, as well. All of that, together with his recent behavior, meant there was very little chance she’d believe him even if he did lie.
“That isn’t true, is it?” she asked tentatively.
“How I feel doesn’t matter, Sheridan. You’re in love with someone else.”
“That’s not a denial.”
He laughed incredulously. “You were expecting one?”
This time, the pause lasted much longer. “No, I guess not,” she said at length.
The shower went on, making him feel more comfortable about speaking freely. “So why are you calling? To hear me say it?”
“To figure out what the hell has suddenly come between us and to find some way to fix it.”
“There is no way to fix it.” If Cain hadn’t come between them, it would’ve been someone else, he thought. But he didn’t really believe it. He knew Cain was the only man who could give him any competition where Sheridan was concerned. She’d been in love with Cain for years, since she was sixteen. He’d remained in Tennessee when she’d moved on. Jonathan had never dreamed they’d get together. He’d always assumed Sheridan would eventually be his wife.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” she asked.
He’d been waiting for her to get over the boy who’d broken her heart at sixteen. But that boy was now a man, and when she returned to Whiterock the encounter had been very different than before. “Would it have made a difference?”
“I don’t know.”
“Not when it comes to Cain.”
“Probably not,” she admitted. “I’ve been in love with him almost my whole life.”
“Exactly. I gotta go.”
“Will you talk to me?” she said.
“About what? This is a waste of time. You’re married. There’s nowhere to go from here.”
“Just because I’m not in love with you doesn’t mean I don’t love you, Jon. You’re one of my best friends!”
She was crying; he could hear it in her voice. But he couldn’t change how he felt or what it meant for their relationship.
“Don’t cry, Sher. You’ve got Cain. Isn’t one man enough?”
“Does loving him mean I have to lose you?”
“Don’t you get it?” he said. “We can’t be friends. We’ll be lucky if we can continue to function as work associates. Knowing how I feel about you, Cain won’t want us together all day.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that sometimes you can’t have it all.”
He’d disconnected and was massaging his temples, trying to digest what’d just happened, when a noise caught his attention.
Zoe was standing at the entrance to the kitchen, her long legs bare beneath his oversize T-shirt. The fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra and her hair was mussed from their lovemaking meant she’d turned the water on but hadn’t yet taken her shower. And the look on her face said she’d heard more than enough to understand what was going on. “You don’t think I can give you what you need?” she said, mocking his complaint from last night.
He winced at the disappointment in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said, but it didn’t help. He felt about two inches tall as she turned and walked back to the bathroom. A second later, the door closed behind her—and the lock clicked.
* * *
Zoe couldn’t get anything right. And, apparently, that wasn’t about to change just because she’d lost her daughter—even though that was enough to go wrong in anyone’s life. Earlier this morning, she’d slept with a man she’d known only a week. And she’d let it mean something to her. How stupid could she be? Hadn’t the past taught her anything?
At least she’d found out early this time, before she’d wasted the next few weeks or months hoping for a commitment that wasn’t going to come.
“You haven’t said a word since you got out of the shower.” Jonathan sat across from her at a little sidewalk café on L Street, where they’d stopped for breakfast before going to the hospital. “What’re you thinking?”
Zoe considered him through the dark lenses of her sunglasses and had to concede that physically he appealed to her as much as any man she’d ever met. Maybe that hadn’t changed since his telephone conversation with Sheridan, but everything else had. “That I’m an idiot to have fallen for your ‘I’m looking for more’ speech. Why didn’t you just say you needed a quick lay?”
He blanched. “I wasn’t using you, Zoe. I’m attracted to you.”
“Well, thanks for that,” she said with a laugh.
“Listen, I made a mistake last night, and I’m willing to admit it. I shouldn’t have touched you. It was insensitive and unprofessional. Besides, neither of us was in the best state of mind. But…that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”
“Oh, please.” She took a sip of her latte. “You don’t have to care about me. Because you were right. I don’t care about you or anyone else. Just Sam. All I want is my daughter back safe. I’d sleep with anyone in the world if it would give me that.”
When a muscle flexed in his cheek, she knew she’d hit her target. She regretted the harshness of her response. But not enough to lower her guard again. Just when she thought she could be indifferent to any man, Jonathan had managed to hurt her, and she was the stupid one who’d let it happen.
“You’re saying it meant nothing to you,” he said.
Grateful for her sunglasses, she lifted her chin. “Less than nothing.”
His lips, the lips that’d kissed her in so many places last night, formed a hard straight line. “Then we were equally at fault.”
“I’ll accept that.” She tossed her cup in the garbage. “Let’s go to the hospital.”
“Zoe—” His voice had softened, telling her that what he had to say was probably conciliatory, but she was more afraid of “nice” than she was of “indifferent” or even “mean.” Nice was harder to defend herself against.
“Don’t,” she said. “It’s over, it won’t happen again and I don’t want to talk about it.” If she was going to do a better job of protecting herself in the future than she’d done in the past, she had to take a firm stand. She’d lost focus, given in to the need to feel loved. But she’d improve.
“I’m sorry if…if I’ve somehow made your situation more difficult,” he said.
He was determined to get that apology in there, but she couldn’t let it matter, or she’d be right back where she’d been before—open to letting him comfort her, letting herself need him.
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” She threw him a careless smile. “My situation couldn’t possibly get any worse.”
“I guess not.”
She got up and started toward his car, telling herself that if he was anyone special he wouldn’t be driving a beat-up Mercedes. Those thoughts should’ve made it easier to forget that last night had been one of the best nights of her life. But she recognized such criticism as a mere echo of Anton’s opinions about being a productive citizen—a flimsy attempt to make Jonathan seem less special. It didn’t work because she knew Jonathan’s financial situation had nothing to do with a lack of character. It was all about priorities, and she couldn’t help admiring the fact that he didn’t feel the need to prove himself by acquiring possessio
ns the way Anton did.
She reached the car before realizing he wasn’t behind her. Retracing her steps, she found him at the corner of the building, talking on his phone.
“I’m with her right now,” he was saying. “Where are you…? That’s not far from Sunrise Mall. Why don’t we meet there…. Okay, see you in fifteen minutes.”
“Who was that?” she asked as he pushed the End button.
He slipped his BlackBerry in his pocket. “Franky Bates.”
She’d assumed that encounter in San Diego would be an isolated incident. What was this? “It sounded as if he’s here, in Sacramento.”
“He is.”
“Why?”
“He claims he’s putting up a ten-thousand-dollar reward for Sam.”
That couldn’t be true. “There’s no way. He just got out of prison and is staying with his grandma. He doesn’t have any money.”
“He says he does and it’s in cash. He’s planning to give it to you. Unless you’d rather I met him alone.”
Zoe considered her options. What had happened in that trailer had left deep emotional scars. She wasn’t eager to have Franky back in her life. But the man she’d met in southern California hadn’t been the frightening monster she remembered. And seeing him as he really was, a man like any other, had been cathartic.
“Is this for real?” she asked.
“We won’t know until we get there, but it sounds pretty real to me.”
She’d never expected to get anything positive from Franky and was hesitant to accept his help, even if he was sincere. But she definitely wanted to offer all the incentive she could to get people looking for Sam.
It couldn’t hurt to meet him, could it? Not with Jonathan there.
She hiked her purse higher on her shoulder. “Let’s go.”
CHAPTER 29
Franky looked exhausted. Dressed in a white T-shirt and a pair of baggy jeans that hung low on his hips, he had a dark shadow of beard covering his jaw. And he seemed even more nervous than tired. Zoe saw him wiping his palms on his pants and rocking onto the balls of his feet as they pulled up. A taxi, idling a few feet behind, was waiting for him.
Taxis weren’t a common sight in Sacramento, especially in the suburbs.
