by Cate Beauman
He stood rigid in her arms, his nostrils flaring, his jaw clenched.
“Dance with me, Chase.” She pressed her hands to his cheeks, her eyes locked with his. “Dance with me.”
He wrapped her back up, holding her as if he was shielding her. “If that fucker touches you again, he’s dead.”
“He won’t.”
“I’m just letting you know right now.”
“He won’t.”
“Okay.”
The music rolled into another song and finally Chase relaxed as she settled herself against him. Noah was sending her a message, and she got it loud and clear, but tomorrow she would take her DNA test whether he liked it or not.
~~~~
Chase slid his finger along the seal of a sandwich-sized plastic baggy and gave it a shake, making certain the ice cubes stayed where they belonged. With his jacket off, his tie stuffed in his pocket, and his sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, he started toward the stairs as Elaine walked in, carrying her high heels.
“Why, it’s Chase.” She beamed. “Where’s your lovely date?”
“Jules went up. I wanted to grab her some ice.”
Elaine shook her head. “Poor thing. I hope she’s okay.”
“She’s fine—just a couple of bruises,” he said with a casual shrug, even as the idea of her being injured at all boiled his blood. It was still tempting to hunt down Noah and knock out the bastard.
Elaine yawned. “Oh, excuse me. What a long night.”
He glanced at his watch, realizing it was well after two. “It’s late.”
“Tell me about it. I’m too tired to drive home. I’m heading to the guesthouse.” She slid her wrap over her toned arms.
He’d seen Elaine around a couple of times, but he never had a chance to talk to Neve’s gorgeous and equally vibrant friend. “You lived in the guesthouse when Jules was little?”
She nodded. “I moved to an apartment downtown right around the time Ally turned two. I think it was just a couple weeks after her second birthday if I’m remembering right. Jay and Neve were giving me more responsibilities at Porter Pharmaceuticals, so it made sense for me to be closer to the office even though I loved staying here.”
“Were you Neve’s assistant back then?”
“I was more Neve’s assistant then than I am now.” Elaine abandoned her winter boots she’d been about to sink her feet into and hitched herself up on the counter. “Now I do a lot with the Alyson Porter Foundation and coordinate functions for the Porter Pharmaceutical end of things.”
Chase raised his eyebrows. “Big job.”
“Yeah, but I love it.” She yawned again. “Neve says you’re former FBI.”
He nodded. “Counterterrorism.”
“Now that’s a big job.”
He smiled.
“She also says you’re trying to help her and Julie figure out what happened.”
“I’m trying.”
She started pulling pins from her hair and long twists of blond tumbled around her shoulders. “Any luck?”
He shook his head. “Not much.”
“I’ve never understood how Ally just vanished. I saw her earlier that night before she disappeared, sitting in with Neve while Neve got ready for the party.” She smiled. “She was such a beautiful little girl—so happy and sweet and outgoing. She and Neve adored each other. Then she was just gone.” She shook her head. “I mean, how does that happen? How does a three-year-old child disappear for twenty-five years without a trace?”
Wasn’t that the ultimate question? “Hopefully we’ll find out.”
“It’s nice that Ally’s back, that she’s still happy and beautiful and outgoing, and finally Neve’s at peace. It’s been so hard watching her grieve through the years: the extortion plots, the rumors that she and Jay had something to do with the disappearance of the child they loved more than life.”
He shook his head. “I can’t even imagine.”
“It’s good to hear Ally’s laugh again. It’s a few years older, but it’s still Ally’s laugh.” She chuckled.
“Do you remember anything odd the week or two before Alyson was taken?”
“I’ve been asked that a lot, but I was traveling quite a bit back then. Those first couple weeks in December, I was in New York handling some business for Neve so she could be at home with the kids.”
He leaned against the counter opposite Elaine, deciding now was as good a time as any to start figuring out what people knew about the mysterious Helen. “Did you and Neve ever know a Helen?”
She frowned. “A Helen? Does Helen have a last name?”
“Not sure yet.”
Her frown deepened, and she sighed as she looked toward the ceiling, pursing her lips. “Mmm, no. I don’t think so. Now that I think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever known a Helen—such a rigid name. Kinda boring.”
He stuck his free hand in his pocket, fiddling with his bowtie. “Will you think on it some, just in case something comes to mind?”
“Sure. Did Helen take Alyson?”
“I’m still putting the pieces together.”
She yawned again. “I’m sorry. Really.”
He wasn’t getting anywhere with this right now. “Don’t worry about it. Go get some rest.”
She hopped down and put on her boots. “You too. Tell Julie I hope she’s feeling better. Hopefully she won’t be too sore for yoga. I want to get in on some of that.”
“I’ll let her know.”
“And let me know if there’s anything I can be doing to help with Ally’s case.”
“Will do.”
She opened the back door. “Good night.”
“Night.” He walked upstairs, knowing that he and Julie had a lot to talk about, but tomorrow would be soon enough. The woman he loved was waiting for him. He wasn’t about to spend some of their final hours together discussing a twenty-five-year-old cold case that wasn’t going to get solved in the wee hours on Sunday morning.
Chapter Thirty-four
Chase’s eyes flew open when someone knocked on Julie’s bedroom door. The knock came again, and he sat up, covering Julie with the blankets. “Yeah?”
“Mr. Chase.” Ferra opened the door. “I’m sorry to disturb you both, but I’m afraid you’re about to oversleep.” She walked in with a pot of coffee and croissants on a tray with a newspaper tucked in the center. “Ms. Julie and Ms. Neve’s appointment is sooner rather than later this afternoon.”
Naked beneath the sheets, he had no choice but to reach for the tray. “Thanks.”
“You’ll want to take a look at the paper.” She gave Chase a firm nod and walked out, closing the door behind her.
Groaning, Julie rolled to her back. “What time is it?”
“Nine thirty.”
She moaned and settled on her stomach again. “We just went to sleep.”
He put the tray on the floor, careful not to spill the coffee. “That’s not Ferra’s fault.”
“I didn’t say it was,” she mumbled into her pillow. “It’s yours.”
Grinning, he snuggled up next to her, wrapping his arm around her, and nuzzled her neck. “I’m pretty sure you’re the one who said, ‘More, Chase.’ And let’s not forget ‘Don’t stop.’” He snagged her ear with his teeth. “Those are direct quotes.”
“Next time, don’t listen. I was in a sexual haze.” She turned to face him. “A woman can’t always be responsible for what she says in a sexual haze.”
He chuckled, staring into her sleepy eyes as she stroked her fingers over his beard. They’d worn each other out, heading to bed after three and finally let each other rest sometime after five. Catching sight of the light bruising along her palm, he grabbed her hand, studying her injury. “How’s this feeling this morning?”
She shrugged. “I’ll live.”
He kissed her skin once, twice, holding her gaze. “Are you ready for today?”
“I guess so. A few swipes of the cheek and we’ll know what’s what in a co
uple of days.”
She would be back in Washington when she got the final word, and he would be in California. “Pretty simple stuff for pretty big news.”
“Mmm,” she agreed.
“You could change your ticket and come spend a couple of days with me in Los Angeles—see where I live, meet my friends, take in the sights.” He brushed her hair back from her forehead, never wanting to stop touching her. “I could be there with you when you get the results.”
Her eyes softened as she smiled. “Has anyone ever told you you’re super sweet?”
He narrowed his eyes, pondering her question. “I can’t say they have.”
“Well, you are.” Grinning, she pulled his mouth down on hers. “Your offer is extremely tempting, but I have to get home.”
He nodded, exhaling a long breath. Not the answer he wanted to hear, but the one he knew was coming. Their week together was up tomorrow, and he wasn’t ready to say goodbye.
“I have a full day of classes scheduled for Wednesday, and I’m hoping to get a couple of massages on the books for Thursday. I had Leila put together a promotion for this morning’s paper, so everyone will know I’m ready to roll again.”
“It was just an idea,” he added, pressing his lips to hers, addicted to her taste.
“Maybe—maybe I can get down your way sometime though.”
He sensed the uncertainty in her voice, in her eyes as she spoke. “Sure. LA’s a four-hour flight from Spokane.”
“Not too bad.”
“Not too bad,” he agreed, but four hours was an eternity when being away from her for four minutes seemed like too long.
Nodding, she pressed her lips together and looked away, then back.
Clearing his throat, he sent her a small smile as the subject neither one of them wanted to talk about hovered heavy between them: What exactly was happening once they said goodbye at the airport. They’d taken their week and reconnected. Now what?
“So, uh, how about some coffee?” Ready for a subject change, he kissed her temple and rolled to his side, reaching for the tray and settling it on his lap.
“No, thanks.”
“It looks like Ferra hooked us up.” He sniffed at the delicious pastries. “These croissants are fresh.”
“We’ll have to remember to thank her.” She sat up, grabbing the Sunday paper. “Let’s see what’s going on in Boston this morning.”
He poured coffee and sipped Ferra’s delicious brew. “Can I have the sports section?”
“Yeah—” Her eyes grew huge and she gasped. “What is this?”
“What?”
“This.” She shoved the paper closer.
He set down his mug and stared at the grainy front-page picture of Julie, Neve, and Noah descending the staircase to the ballroom and read CHRISTMAS MIRACLE: ALYSON PORTER FOUND. Steaming out another long breath, he rubbed his fingers along his jaw. Apparently they were going to start their day off with one hell of a headache. “Looks like a headline.”
Her gaze flew to his. “How did they get this picture? There were no photographers in attendance last night—no media of any kind.”
“Someone must’ve snapped it with their phone.”
“Why would they do that to Neve?”
“Just because she invited two hundred people to her house for a dance doesn’t mean they’re all her friends.”
She shook her head. “I can’t believe this.”
Unfortunately, he could. He leaned closer to Julie’s side and read the full-length article, recapping Alyson’s mysterious disappearance, the Porters desperate decades-long search for their daughter, and how the woman at the party, Julie Keller, appeared as suddenly as she’d vanished twenty-five years ago. He closed his eyes, barely suppressing a curse. They already knew her name—not Alyson, but Julie.
There was another knock at the door. “Julie?” Neve called.
“Hold on,” Chase answered, moving the tray and got out of bed, tossing Julie his shirt she’d taken off of him not all that long ago, and slid on his pants he pulled out from under her gown on the floor. He waited for Julie to button up and opened the door.
“Good morning.” Neve smiled, but it was strained. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I wanted you to know that the newspaper—”
“We just saw it,” Julie said, holding up the front page.
Neve walked farther in. “I’m so sorry, Julie. My goal was to prevent this from happening—or at least to buy us all a little time—by keeping the press away from the event last night.”
“It’s not your fault,” Julie assured.
Neve pressed her fingers to her temple. “I certainly feel responsible.”
“You shouldn’t.”
Neve sat on the bed next to Julie. “I’ll be getting to the bottom of this. My attorney has already put in a call to the editor to see if we can figure out where they got this picture and your name.” She tapped on the paper. “Porter Pharmaceuticals is putting together a press release as we speak. We’ll be asking for privacy.”
Chase rubbed at the back of his neck as he looked from Julie to Neve. “You won’t get it.”
Neve sighed. “I know.” She took Julie’s hand. “Really, Julie, I’m truly sorry.”
“I’m not mad at you. This is no more your fault than it is mine.”
Neve shook her head. “I was supposed to protect you from this.”
“We all knew it was only a matter of time,” Chase reminded Neve.
“We have a lot of influence behind our name—Noah most of all. I’m going to speak to him right now.” She stood. “Are you still up for our appointment, or should we reschedule?”
“I’m ready if you are.”
“I’ll see you soon then.” She left, closing the door behind her.
Julie crossed her arms, rubbing her hands up and down her biceps. “I’ve never seen her shaken…not that we’ve known each other long, but she’s always so composed.”
“She wanted to protect you. The press is invited to the ball every year—probably another opportunity to keep Alyson’s name in the papers, but she kept them away this time since you’re right here.” He took Neve’s place on the side of the bed and laced his fingers with hers. “This is going to be a circus—a fucking media bonanza.”
“For how long?”
“Probably a few weeks, maybe longer. This is big news. The Porter heiress found after twenty-five years. Big news, Jules,” he said again.
She sighed. “Great.”
“We’ll handle it, but it’s going to be rough for a while.”
“I can’t wait.” She rolled her eyes and pulled her hand from his, yanking the covers back. “I’m going to go have a shower and clear my head.”
He nodded as she stood and closed herself in the bathroom. When the door shut behind her, he got to his feet and walked to the television, flipping to the local news station. “Fuck,” he muttered, recognizing the Porter’s front gate in the background as a reporter from Channel Four spoke into her microphone while dozens of other affiliates waited to swoop in. This definitely wasn’t going away any time soon. The Porters were American royalty. He shut off the television and started toward the bathroom. Might as well give her the bad news now. “Jules.” He walked in as she let water run over her head. “You may want to rethink coming home with me for a few days.”
“I can’t, Chase.”
“They’re going to eat you alive. Your name is in the paper, not just Neve and Noah’s. They’ll be at OM Studio, they’ll follow you to the grocery store, bother your clients and friends.” He unsnapped his pants and let them fall to the floor, stepping into the glass stall with her.
“If I’m gone too long, I won’t have a business to go back to. It’ll be better if I’m there.” She rubbed conditioner into her hair.
“If I could take more time, I’d come with you.” He picked up the soap, washing himself.
“I’ll have to deal with it.” She grabbed her puffy sponge, lathering bubbles on her ski
n. “For the last couple weeks, you’ve been here to help, but tomorrow we step back into reality.” She put her head under a majority of the spray, rinsing her hair and the soap from her body.
He stared at her, the woman he couldn’t bear to leave tomorrow morning. “I could ask Ethan—”
“No.” She shook her head. “We need to get our lives back on track.” She grabbed a towel and got out, not meeting his eyes as she left him in the warm water and steam.
“Damn it.” They’d put off dealing with the way things were—jobs in different cities, lives in other states. This morning, Julie was apparently ending that.
~~~~
Julie pulled her ID from her purse and showed the technician her license in the sterile, pale yellow room. The DNA testing sight didn’t appear to waste their pennies on ambiance.
“Thank you. Go ahead and dip your thumb and deposit your print on the paper please.”
She pushed the pad of her thumb into the black ink and pressed her finger onto the small square on her proof-of-identification form where Neve had done the same on her own.
“Okay.” The technician stood. “I need a picture of you both. Smiling is optional.”
Neve and Julie leaned in next to each other and smiled as the camera bulb flashed.
“Great. We’ll do the swabs now. Mrs. Porter, if you could please open your mouth.”
Neve did as she was asked.
The woman swabbed Neve’s cheek and put the swab into an envelope, then changed her gloves before moving over to the chair where Julie sat.
“Open your mouth please, Ms. Keller.” The no-nonsense woman wiped the inside of Julie’s cheek in a firm up and down motion and put the sample in an identical envelope. “Okay. I’m going to seal the contents in this third envelope here.” She slid tamper-proof tape over the opening. “If both of you can sign off, verifying that the samples contained within belong to you.”
Julie stared at the legal-sized envelope as Neve jotted down her pretty signature. Two swabs, a couple of names on a piece of paper, and science would prove what they already knew.
“When will we have results?” Neve asked, adding the date.
