by C. J. Miller
“Camden is a good man. He could provide a nice life for you.”
This conversation again. “I don’t need a man to provide a life for me. I provide a life for myself.”
Her father looked at her car and then at her. “I’ve been waiting for you to give this up.”
How could she make her parents understand? They weren’t listening. Her career wasn’t launched in rebellion. “I’m not giving it up. I’ve worked hard to get where I am.” If no one else recognized it, at least she did.
Her father’s face turned cold. “I see.”
He was disappointed in her. Again. “If I were a woman who could cook and clean and garden and find that interesting and fulfilling, we wouldn’t have this problem. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I am not good at those things and I don’t like them.”
She couldn’t be who her parents wanted. She wouldn’t have their approval, no matter how much she wanted it.
One day, she’d accept that and move on, but until then a part of her would always wish it could be different. That she could have a soft place to land, a secure place where she fit in and someone she could count on when the chips were down.
Chapter 4
The moment Lucia walked in the door of her condo, she smelled Cash. The scent of soap and spice hit her and she swooned. Not actual falling-to-the-ground swooning, but enough that she grabbed the table next to the door to steady herself. He affected her that much.
Lucia crept inside and set her keys on the counter. Walking into the living room, she found Cash asleep on the couch. He was lying on his back and had one foot on the floor and the other hung over the arm of the couch.
She watched his steady, even breathing as his chest rose and fell. He was a beautiful man, with strong features, a perfect mouth and a brush of a beard across his face. His appearance was almost playful. It spoke nothing of the emotion she’d glimpsed beneath. What had it been like for him in prison? Had his charisma and charm kept him out of trouble?
His eyes snapped open with a look of alarm on his face. Lucia had wandered closer, too close and she took a step back. “It’s okay. It’s me. Lucia.”
Watching an ex-con sleep wasn’t wise. Actually, watching anyone sleep wasn’t a good idea and was borderline creepy. For Cash, it had to be unsettling on a whole other level.
“Lucia?” As his eyes cleared, she searched for an excuse for why she had been standing over him. He sat up and ran a hand through his messy hair, perhaps trying to smooth it. It looked more tousled and gave him an overall sexy appearance. “How was breakfast?” he asked, his voice gravelly.
It had been a disaster. Could she confide in him? She was the black sheep who couldn’t blend with the flock. She bleated out of turn and she ran amok. But he hadn’t been judgmental when she’d confided about her family’s money.
Going into the kitchen, she poured him some juice. “It was brunch, church and a setup.”
“A setup?” Cash asked.
Lucia handed him the juice glass. “A family friend’s son they wanted me to meet.”
He took a swig of the juice. “Oh. That kind of setup. Financial advisor?”
“Lawyer,” she said.
He straightened. “Did you like him?”
No hint of jealousy, just curiosity. “He was probably better than the lawyer I almost married.”
“You almost married a lawyer?” Cash asked. “What happened? You realized marrying a lawyer was a horrible mistake?”
She chuckled. “Although in retrospect it would have been a mistake. He would have suffocated me. He decided to marry my sister, instead. She is much better for him than I could have ever been.” It was the first time she had spoken those words and not felt shame, as if she had done something wrong. She didn’t miss the stifling emotion.
Cash’s eyebrows knit together. “Your ex-boyfriend married your sister? Guess I’m not the only one with family problems.”
“Ex-fiancé, but yes, he married my sister.” This was more than she had said about her sister and Bradley’s relationship since it had happened. It was easy to tell Cash the details. She didn’t feel he had an invisible bar she had to measure up to or that she had to hide how she felt for the sake of decorum.
“Pretty hard to believe you sat down to eat with them and kept your food down,” Cash said. “I don’t have a brother, but I thought there was a sibling code of honor not to share boyfriends and girlfriends.”
Bradley was part of her family’s tight-knit social circle, giving him elevated status despite his two-timing behavior. Lucia wondered if her parents sided with Bradley, believing Lucia had chased him away. “It was a long time ago,” she said. It’s what she told herself whenever insecurities and anger rose up over the past.
“For some betrayals, there’s not enough time in ten human lives to make those hurts disappear,” Cash said.
“They haven’t disappeared,” she admitted. “But at least no one expected me to be in the wedding.”
“Did you attend the wedding?” he asked.
It had been a pretty dark day in her life. “I went and I’m not proud to say I got raucously drunk and Audrey drove me home to keep me from making a total fool of myself.” It was one of the first times she had gotten to know Audrey. Audrey had told her that she respected her for not pretending she was cool with Bradley and her sister getting married.
“A little drunken madness sounds in order.”
“You don’t know my family. Drunken and madness are not states they approve of under any circumstances.”
Cash whistled. “You never let loose on your sister?”
“No.”
“That’s a lot to keep bottled up.”
Maybe it was. “Having a hissy fit over something that happened years ago over someone I don’t want is a waste of time.”
“Sometimes a tantrum can be fun,” Cash said.
Lucia chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind next time I get screwed over.”
“Your family wants to set you up with someone else? Maybe that’s the perfect time for a tantrum.”
“I didn’t need to have a fit to put anyone off. I mentioned the bombing and I was immediately put into the column with other social pariahs by the guy’s parents.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” Cash said.
It was over. If she saw Camden and his family again, it would be at a large social gathering and she could be distantly polite. “I’m the oldest unmarried woman in my family. The pressure is on. That I’m not married is a stain on our family name.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” she said. It didn’t bother her as much as it used to.
“What are your plans for the rest of the day?” he asked.
“I need to review old case files and trace who might have set the bomb in my car and who might have snuck into the hospital to finish the job they bungled,” Lucia said. “I’ve been thinking more about Kinsley and Georgiana, too.”
“You keep FBI files in your condo?” he asked.
Lucia shook her head. “I can access my case files remotely from my secure computer. What’s on your agenda for the day?”
“I got a lead on a new apartment,” he said. “The current tenant is moving out in two weeks. Then it’s mine. Gives me time to acquire some furniture.”
“You can crash on my couch for a few more nights,” she said. Two weeks wasn’t long and he wouldn’t cramp her style. Having him around made her feel safer and he was fun to talk to.
“You don’t have to take care of me,” Cash said, sounding wary.
“This place is big enough for both of us. Besides, I’m working this case around the clock.”
Cash smiled. “Thank you, Lucia. I’ll stay out of your way.”
&
nbsp; Lucia was aware of him. She was attracted to him. And having him in her personal space was a test. Logic over emotion. Reality over fantasy. Even if he stayed at the opposite end of the condo from her, she would know he was there.
After setting her laptop on her dining room table, she paged to the case files from the beginning of her career. Cash strolled into the room and sat next to her. “Need help? Something to drink?”
“You don’t have to wait on me. We’re colleagues.” If she said it enough times, maybe it would penetrate her thinking and her dreams. “Talking through some of this might help. I’m looking for anyone I could have pissed off who likes playing with explosives and who isn’t afraid of direct confrontation. Those modus operandi are dissimilar. Bombers hide in the shadows and watch from a distance. This person is taking a front-row view.”
“Maybe it’s more than one person,” Cash said. “A group targeting you.”
It was a chilling possibility. “That’s not out of the question.”
Cash narrowed his gaze on her. “You have an idea who could be behind this.”
Lucia weighed how much to disclose. “The case I worked before moving to white collar involved a murder-for-hire ring. The group was well organized, skilled and ruthless.” Thinking of what they’d done to their victims terrified her. The killings were precise and cruel. “But I could be wrong. It doesn’t fit, not exactly. The members of the group were well trained, but the attacks on me had miscalculations and errors.”
“Is there anyone outside work you’ve pissed off?” Cash asked.
Her social life was practically nonexistent. Her personal life involved her family, their friends and a handful of former classmates, colleagues and neighbors. “No one I’ve pissed off enough to want to kill me.”
She looked through her cases, talking over some theories with Cash.
After several hours, Cash moved closer. “I want to ask you a favor that I’ve been debating asking.”
He appeared uncomfortable and she immediately went on alert. She couldn’t break the rules for him. She couldn’t even bend them.
“I need to make a long-distance phone call to Seattle,” he said. “I don’t have a cell phone. May I use yours?”
It would cost her nothing to allow him to make the call. “Who are you calling?” She wouldn’t provide him with the means to make contact with other felons and violate the terms of his release.
“My son,” Cash said.
The words came out in a thick voice and sympathy washed over her. Lucia should have offered sooner. “Of course you may.”
She handed him her phone. She could verify later if the call had gone to Washington state, but Cash wasn’t stupid enough to use an FBI agent’s phone to transact illegal business.
A few minutes later, Cash was standing on the balcony, staring out over the city. The phone was clasped in his hand.
She opened the door. “Everything okay?”
Cash looked over his shoulder at her. “He won’t speak to me.”
The hurt in his voice was plain. “I’m sorry.”
“He doesn’t understand and he’s angry at me for going to prison.”
“Is there someone who can speak with him?” she asked. Family relations weren’t her forte. She couldn’t offer advice to Cash.
“His grandmother tries,” he said.
“You’re welcome to call someone else if you need to talk,” she said. She wasn’t pawning him off on someone else, but she didn’t have the expertise in this situation to help.
“I don’t have anyone to call.”
No one? A man like Cash seemed to make friends easily. How could he not have people to call? “What about other family?”
“My father’s a con man too. He didn’t come to see me in prison. I spoke to him once on the phone from prison during the trial. He said it messed with his head to come anywhere near me.”
Her heart ached for him. Though her family wasn’t perfect, at least her parents didn’t cut her out because of her choices and the consequences of those decisions.
“What about friends?” she asked.
“I’ve cut ties with my old life. I had to.”
If he was conning her, he was doing a good job, making her sympathies swell to an almost insurmountable point.
“It’s almost dinner. What do you want to eat?” Cash asked.
A pointed change in the subject and Lucia let it slide. It had to cut deep to have his son refuse to talk to him, and given the other things in his life that had gone wrong, Cash might be barely holding everything together. She wouldn’t apply pressure. “I’ll check the pantry. I probably have something we can throw together.”
Cash joined her in the kitchen. The food in her refrigerator was half-spoiled and her pantry contained several boxes and canned items that wouldn’t make a meal.
“I’ll run to the market and pick up something,” Cash said.
“We can order carryout,” Lucia said.
“Let me earn my keep. I fed you carryout once. I can cook for you,” Cash said.
“I’ll grab my food bags and come with you,” Lucia said. Though he wasn’t openly devastated, she sensed he was still down and leaving him alone didn’t sit right.
Con man or not, he wasn’t hiding his emotions well. His pain was palpable.
She wanted to give him some encouragement. What could she say? Lucia grabbed his elbow. “Cash, I want you to know that I think you’re doing a good job. I know this is hard for you.”
Cash watched her with his perceptive eyes. Why did it always seem as if so much was going on inside his head? He had layers she couldn’t fully understand. “That’s nice of you to say. Most days, I feel like the world’s biggest screw-up.”
When they left her building, Lucia noted the police cruiser that had been watching her house earlier was no longer parked outside. It wasn’t across the street, either. Strapped for resources, monitoring her place could have been rotated to the occasional drive-by.
The market where Lucia preferred to shop was five blocks away. Grabbing a cart, she strolled up and down the narrow aisles letting Cash toss items into the basket. She didn’t make comments, although preparation of many of the items he’d selected was foreign to her.
“Why do you keep wrinkling your nose?” Cash asked. “These are fresh ingredients. I’ve missed them.”
She realized that she took the ability to buy fresh food for granted. “I’m confused about what you’re picking. How do you know how to fix avocado?”
Cash laughed. “Slice, knock out the seed and remove the skin. Easy and delicious.”
Lucia could have fumbled her way through it, but wouldn’t have attempted it if she were alone. “Learning to cook is on my to-do list.”
“You don’t need to learn to cook. Cook and see where it takes you,” Cash said.
His suggestion highlighted a big difference between their personalities. He was intuitive and she went by the book. When she needed to do something new, she studied it. She’d wager Cash just did it.
They paid for their groceries and Cash carried the bulk of the items in her fabric food bags. Lucia held one. Her leg was feeling much better and she would have made more of an issue about each of them carrying the same number of bags, but it seemed as though he needed to be in control for a while. She gave him some leeway.
The sun was beginning to dip low in the sky and the streets were less crowded. Turning down a side street, she sensed someone behind them. She glanced over her shoulder and saw a man with his hands in his pockets and his head down. He could be traveling in the same direction, but his posture and proximity made her nervous. On the heels of the bombing, was she overreacting to nothing?
“I think we’re being followed,” she said.
“Advise,” he said.
&nbs
p; Cash’s immediate willingness to defer to her surprised her. Lucia looked around for their next move. “When we reach that Dumpster, I’ll pull my gun and turn around. Duck behind the Dumpster and protect your head.”
“You need to take cover, too,” he said. “We should turn around and let him know we see him.”
If he was following her with the intent to approach, that might scare him off and Lucia wanted to put an end to this. “I want to catch him. I can take care of myself,” she said. “Do as I said.”
She didn’t want their follower to know she’d made him, so she was careful to conceal her movements, reaching for her gun, unsnapping the strap over the handle and removing it from the holster. As many times as she had practiced using it, she hadn’t fired her gun with a lethal result. She’d been trained to do so and she could protect herself.
When they reached the Dumpster, Cash moved behind it, pulling her with him.
Lucia shook him off and peeked around the corner. The street was empty. “Cash, that was not the plan. I lost him. There’s no one there now.”
Cash didn’t move. “I heard the footsteps, too. Someone was behind us. I didn’t want you hurt.”
Lucia looked up. No stairwell leading up from the ground level. A metal door halfway down the street could have been the exit point. “I’ll look for him.”
“Don’t be insane. Call the police and let’s get out of here,” Cash said.
She hated backing down from a fight. Whoever was stalking her had to know he couldn’t intimidate her. As persistent as her follower had been, would he duck away that easily? Lucia lowered herself to the ground and peered under the Dumpster. She could see a pair of dirty worn sneakers on the other side. Her nerves tightened and her mouth went dry.
Someone was waiting for her to leave the safety of the metal box. She signaled to Cash to stay and handed him her phone and pressed a finger over her lips. He dialed 911.
“I must be hearing things. Let’s go home,” she said.
As she’d hoped, the man stepped out from behind the Dumpster and Lucia leveled her gun at him. His hooded sweatshirt covered most of his face. “FBI. Hands where I can see them or I’ll put a bullet in your head.”
