Needing Nicole (The Cantrelle Family Trilogy Book 2)

by Patricia Kay

  “Thanks.” He lowered his hands, too, and pulled something from the left breast pocket of his jacket. He held it out to her.

  Nicole could see that it was a small packet of papers. “What are those?”

  “My identification. My name is Jack Forrester, and I’m an investigative journalist with World Press, based in Houston. These papers will verify that what I’m telling you is the truth.”

  Nicole reached out and took the papers. There was a World Press I.D. card encased in plastic with a full-face mug-shot type picture of Jack Forrester. Under the picture in bold letters was printed: JACKSON ALAN FORRESTER. She carefully read the information on the card, noting that his height was listed as six feet, his weight a hundred and seventy-eight pounds. Blue eyes. Dark blond hair. Thirty-three years old.

  She quickly shuffled through the rest of the papers. Texas driver’s license. Passport. Social security card. Voter’s registration. She raised her eyes, meeting his steady gaze squarely.

  She felt a strange tug of allure, an almost instant rapport. His eyes reminded her of the sea. Deep and bottomless, they were eyes a woman could get lost in. She almost forgot she’d been afraid of him. If she’d met him at Michaul’s, her favorite Friday-night haunt, she’d probably have flirted with him.

  But this wasn’t Michaul’s, she reminded herself, and she wasn’t looking for a dancing partner. This was First Street, and this man, attractive or not, bedroom-blue eyes or not, had been dogging her since early this morning.

  Mentally shaking herself, she handed him back his papers. He took them and put them into his jacket pocket. “Okay, so you’re Jack Forrester. Why have you been following me?”

  “I’m looking for someone—a woman named Elise Arnold.”

  “I know that. But by now you should also know I’m not the woman you want.”

  He nodded slowly. “Yes, I can see you’re not. But I wasn’t sure until now.”

  Partially mollified by his reluctant admission, Nicole said, “Who is this woman anyway, and why did you think I was her?”

  “Elise is a friend of my sister’s, and she disappeared from Houston four weeks ago. My sister asked me to try to find her. My search led me to you.” He must have seen the skepticism Nicole felt, for he smiled—a warm, engaging smile—and something went zing in Nicole’s stomach. “You don’t know whether to believe me or not, do you?”

  Nicole wanted to believe him. How could a man with such a charming smile and such beautiful eyes be dangerous? Remember the last man you thought had a great smile and nice eyes. The thought was sobering. Her earlier lack of judgment had had very serious consequences. She didn’t exactly have a great track record when it came to men.

  Besides, hadn’t she read somewhere that the most successful serial killers were all charming, attractive men? Men who women instinctively trusted?

  She sighed. “Maybe I’ll be sorry later, but I do believe you. However, as I’ve said before, I’m not the woman you’re looking for. My name is Nicole Cantrelle. It’s never been Elise or Arnold, and I’ve never lived in Houston. I’ve lived in Louisiana all my life—for the last two-and-a-half years here in New Orleans. So I’ll ask you again—what made you think I was her?”

  His eyes studied hers for a long moment, and Nicole’s heart gave an odd little thump when something flickered in their rich depths. Lordy, those eyes were lethal! When he finally spoke his voice was thoughtful. “The two of you could be twins you look so much alike.” He withdrew a small, black notebook from his inside jacket pocket, opened it, removed a photograph. He held it out to her.

  Nicole stared at the picture. The snapshot showed a woman who looked to be in her late twenties with long, thick, curly dark hair, and wide, dark eyes. Her full lips tilted up in a shy smile with a hint of dimples as she faced the camera. The dimples gave Nicole pause. She might have been able to ignore the eerie similarity in their looks. After all, wasn’t it well known that everyone had a double somewhere? But the dimples were another story, because Nicole had those same dimples when she smiled. She continued to study the photo. The girl he’d called Elise Arnold was dressed in white shorts and a red tank top, and she was sitting on top of a redwood picnic table and eating an ice cream cone. Nicole had to admit she could have been looking at a picture of herself.

  Although she was shaken by the photograph, she was sure the resemblance between her and this unknown Arnold woman had to be coincidence. Because if there was someone in her family who looked so much like her, she would know it, wouldn’t she? “I’ll admit this woman looks very much like me,” she finally admitted. “But they say everyone has a double somewhere in the world.”

  “That’s not all....”

  A gust of wind rattled the branches of a large sycamore tree, shaking raindrops over them. Nicole hugged her arms, suddenly conscious of how chilly it was and how long they’d been standing there.

  “Elise told my sister her father’s name was Cantrelle.”

  Nicole tried not to show how that little piece of information had startled her. “In Louisiana,” she said carefully, “the name Cantrelle is very common. Perhaps we’re third or fourth cousins or something.” She handed the picture back to him. “There’re many branches of the Cantrelle family around.”

  “Are you sure you’ve never heard of her?” He tucked the picture back into his pocket.

  “Yes, I’m positive.” She ignored the uneasiness pulsing through her.

  “It’s hard to believe two people could look so strikingly alike and not be closely related,” he persisted.

  “Now look, I don’t care if you believe me or not. I’ve told you all I know. And I don’t have time to stand out here in the cold and talk anymore. I’m late as it is.” She pointedly looked at her watch. It was now one o’clock. “I’ve got to get home. Sorry I couldn’t help you.”

  “Where do you live?”

  Nicole took a deep breath, as irritation with his persistence finally got the better of her. “It’s none of your business. Now goodbye, Mr. Forrester.” She turned and began to walk away.

  He matched his stride to hers, coming up and walking next to her on the street side.

  “Go away, Mr. Forrester.” What did he want from her, anyway?

  “How about inviting me in? Maybe we could talk some more. Maybe you’d remember something that might help me.”

  She stopped abruptly. “I’m not going to invite you in. I don’t even know you! Besides, I have nothing more to say to you. So if you don’t mind, I’m in a hurry. I’m going away for the weekend, and I should have already been on my way.”

  She refused to meet his eyes. She didn’t want to be swayed by eyes that reminded her of the ocean on a dazzling summer’s day. By eyes that made her good sense fly out the window. By eyes that could persuade her a possible serial killer was actually a good guy.

  Instead she stalked off. A few minutes later when she looked back, he was still standing where she’d left him, in the middle of the sidewalk with his hands shoved in his pockets. She shrugged aside the tiny spark of regret she felt when she realized he’d finally taken the hint and she wouldn’t be seeing him again.

  * * *

  Jack watched her go, admiring the way her legs looked in the snug-fitting black boots. What a sexy little spitfire! He liked women who didn’t let anyone push them around. From the minute she’d whirled around and waved that can of Mace at him, he’d known she wasn’t Elise.

  Although Jack hadn’t known Elise all that well—he didn’t spend enough time in Houston to really know any of his sister Jenny’s friends—he’d seen enough of Elise to know she was quiet and shy. Nicole Cantrelle might look like Elise Arnold on the outside, but no one spending any time at all with Nicole would mistake her for the other woman. Unlike Elise, there was nothing shy or timid about Nicole. Those dark eyes of hers had flashed at him in angry defiance, and her entire body had seemed to pulsate with energy and life. He couldn’t imagine the reserved Elise standing up to him the way Nicole had.
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br />   But still... disregarding their personalities, it was uncanny how much Nicole Cantrelle and Elise Arnold looked like each other. No matter what Nicole said, no matter what she actually believed, Jack was sure there was a connection between the two women. And he was just the man to uncover it.

  And the first step was to find out more about Nicole. So when she turned right onto Coliseum, he followed at a slower pace. When he got to the comer, he peered cautiously down the street. He saw one bright flash of yellow as she disappeared into a driveway a few doors down on the right. Jack stood there for a moment, then decided to cross the street. If he could find a place to wait where he wouldn’t be noticed, he could watch to see if she really was going somewhere.

  The house on the property she’d entered was a double-galleried home set back from the street in a lush garden setting and surrounded by an ornate iron fence with still-blooming plumbago peeking through the grillwork. Jack admired the well-tended grounds. Someday, if he ever had a home of his own, he wanted a garden and lots of flowers and trees. The house was shaded by two mammoth live oaks that dripped from the morning’s rain and probably kept the big house cool and comfortable in warm weather. He could see another building farther back on the property, and he wondered if Nicole lived in the big house or in the smaller structure.

  A half hour later, Jack’s feet were numb. He wished he had his car. At least then he could turn on the heater instead of standing outside freezing his butt off. Maybe this was a dumb idea. Maybe Nicole had lied to him, and she wasn’t going anywhere. He could stand out here until doomsday, and she’d probably be inside laughing at him.

  Just as these black thoughts crossed his mind, he saw her. She emerged from the back of the property and opened one side of the big garage. Minutes later, Nicole and a little girl, who looked to be about two or three, had loaded a couple of suitcases into the trunk of a small red Geo and were backing out of the driveway. He wondered if the little girl was Nicole’s. He was certain she hadn’t been wearing a wedding ring.

  Jack, with all the finely honed instincts of a veteran reporter, wrote down the numbers on her license plate as Nicole drove away. He took one last look at the house, then, whistling, he walked rapidly toward the streetcar stop.

  Whether Nicole Cantrelle knew it or not, she hadn’t seen the last of him.

  Chapter 2

  Mommy, when are we going to get there?”

  Nicole grinned. She’d lost count of the number of times Aimee had asked this same question. She patted her daughter’s leg. “Soon, chere.”

  “That’s what you said the last time.”

  The grin erupted into a chuckle. Aimee was nobody’s fool, and she wouldn’t be put off with vague answers. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, Nicole’s mother was fond of saying, and in their lack of patience, Nicole knew she and Aimee were very much alike.

  “We’ll be there in ten minutes. Do you know how long ten minutes is?”

  “Ummm...”

  Nicole slanted a glance at her daughter. Aimee’s dark eyes were narrowed in thought, and her silky blond hair, which she’d inherited from her father, fell forward in defiance of Nicole’s every effort to keep it neat. Once again Nicole constantly marveled at Aimee’s beauty. The combination of golden hair, creamy skin and eyes the color of dark chocolate was striking. How a child so lovely and bright could result from one of the worst mistakes in Nicole’s life was a continuous source of mystery... and joy.

  “Look at your watch,” Nicole instructed.

  Aimee held her wrist up and seriously studied the face of the Mickey Mouse watch both she and Celeste had gotten as Christmas presents last year from Nicole’s brother Norman and his wife, Alice.

  “See how the little hand is on the three?”

  Aimee nodded.

  “And the big hand is on the one?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Well, watch the big hand. When it moves around so that it’s on top of the little hand, then we’ll be there.”

  For the next ten minutes, Aimee was quiet, and Nicole was free to let her mind wander as she drove the last few miles to Patinville, the town just west of Baton Rouge where she was born and raised.

  Jack Forrester.

  She hadn’t been able to forget him. Ever since her conversation with him a couple of hours earlier, he’d hovered at the edge of her mind. While she’d been saying her goodbyes to Margaret and Caldwell Reed-Douglas—her landlords and friends as well as Aimee’s baby-sitters—and the whole time she’d gotten Aimee dressed for the trip, she’d been thinking about Jack and what he’d had to say.

  Now, as she exited Interstate 10 and turned south onto Route 77, which would take them straight into Patinville, she remembered how keenly his blue eyes had studied her and how she’d felt when she’d gazed into their depths.

  Quit thinking about his eyes.

  She bit back a giggle. What on earth was wrong with her? A perfect stranger spies on her, follows her, accosts her on the street, gives her some cockeyed story about a missing woman who looks like her, and she’s thinking about his eyes!

  You’ve been without a man far too long, Nicole, my girl.

  Nicole sighed.

  “The big hand’s on the three!” Aimee said, her childish voice squeaking in triumph. She started to bounce on the seat, struggling against the restraining seat belt on her booster seat. “Where’s Grandma’s house?”

  “You’ll see it in a minute,” Nicole said as she turned onto Lafayette Lane, the dead-end street where her parents lived.

  “Grandma! Grandpa!” Aimee struggled to release her seat belt as Nicole spied her parents. They must have been keeping watch at the big bay window, because they were already on the front porch.

  Nicole pulled in behind her mother’s decrepit Plymouth station wagon—a vehicle she refused to give up, no matter how many times her husband and sons lectured her—and turned off the ignition. Then she turned to Aimee, pushed the release on the seat belt and waved to her parents.

  Réne was already opening Aimee’s door. “My darlin’ grandbaby,” he crooned as he scooped Aimee up into his strong arms. “How your grandpapa’s missed you!” Aimee giggled as he covered her face with kisses.

  Nicole got out of the car and walked around the other side, gravel crunching under her feet. She took a deep breath of the pine-scented air. Her parents’ home sat just at the edge of a small wooded area, and she’d always loved its tranquil setting. She and her brothers and sister had spent many happy days playing in the woods, pretending they were explorers and hiding out from their long-suffering mother.

  Arlette Cantrelle now had Aimee in her arms, and Réne enfolded Nicole in a bear hug. “It’s so good to see you, ma chere,” he whispered, his voice husky with emotion. Nicole hugged him back. She knew her father missed her. With the exception of her older brother, Neil, she was the only Cantrelle who had ever left Patinville. And now even Neil was back, once more working in the family’s roofing and home improvement business along with Norman, her other brother.

  “Hello, Papa.”

  Réne finally released her, but his dark eyes carefully studied her face, then her body.

  “Don’t worry, I’m still all in one piece. Those nasty big-city people haven’t done anything to me,” Nicole teased.

  Her mother grinned, and Nicole grinned back. The two of them leaned toward each other and kissed.

  “Hi, Mama. It’s good to see you.”

  “We’ve been watchin’ and waitin’,” her mother said. “Your papa and I, we thought you’d never get here.”

  “Your mama exaggerates,” Réne said, but he winked, and Nicole knew they’d probably been doing just that: watching and waiting impatiently for that first glimpse of their baby and her baby.

  An hour later, with Aimee happily eating her way through a dish of ice cream, Nicole and her parents got caught up on one another’s news.

  “Everyone is comin’ for supper tonight,” Arlette said, her dark eyes sparkling with ha
ppiness.

  Nicole sniffed. “Is that gumbo I smell?”

  “What else?” her mother said. “But that’s not all, of course.” She ticked the items off on her fingers. “I’ve got a ham in the oven, and your papa’s gonna make some sausage on the grill, and there’s jambalaya and cornbread and—”

  “Stop! My stomach hurts just thinking about all that food! ” But Nicole’s admonishment was more teasing than serious, and she knew her mother knew it. Actually, one of the highlights of coming home was eating Arlette’s wonderful cooking.

  “When is Celeste gonna be here?” Aimee asked.

  “Uncle Neil said they’d get here early,” Réne answered.

  “Laura’s pregnant again, did she tell you?” Arlette said.

  “No! Is she? That’s wonderful!” Nicole was thrilled. Laura and Neil had gotten off to a rocky start, so Nicole was doubly happy for them. She knew they’d wanted another child ever since Celeste was born. Neil had laughingly told Nicole he didn’t want to be the oldest father at the PTA.

  Arlette smiled her secret smile as she nodded. “An’ that’s not all...”

  “Come on, Mama, tell me everything. You know you’re dying to.”

  “Alice is pregnant, too!” Arlette said triumphantly.

  “Oh...” Nicole felt her eyes mist at the news. Although she loved Laura, Alice was her favorite sister-in-law. She had been a young widow with two small children when she and Norman married, and she had once confided to Nicole how much she wanted to give Norman a child of his own.

  “He loves Lisa and James, and he treats them as if they’re his natural children, but I so want to have his baby.” Alice’s gray eyes had shone with intense longing.

  “Both babies are due about the same time,” Arlette continued, joy creasing her round face. “Around the middle of July.”

  For the next hour or so, they gossiped and chatted, and Nicole thought about mentioning Jack Forrester, then decided against it. Maybe later. Instead she related a couple of amusing stories about Julianne and the office. Although Arlette and Réne resisted most of Nicole’s efforts to get them to New Orleans, they had visited twice in the past year, and both times Julianne had insisted on taking all of them out to dinner. Nicole knew that part of the reason for Julianne’s generosity was that she was a naturally warmhearted person, but the other part stemmed from the fact that Julianne’s own family was so different. Nicole knew her boss envied Nicole’s close relationship with her family.