L.A.P.D. Special Investigations Series, Boxed Set: The Deceived, The Taken & The Silent

by Style, Linda

  “No, the DeMatta sting has been on the boards for years. And now that we’ve finally got him, it’s a bittersweet victory. Nobody can help the people he’s murdered…or their families.”

  Jordan knew the feeling. All his life he’d wanted to know his real mother. Believed if he found her, she’d fill in the gaps he’d felt all his life because he didn’t know who he was, never felt he belonged.

  “What…what did you think when you met her?”

  Stanton shoved to his feet. “At first? Disappointment. Disgust. Hate. A whole raft of emotions. But afterward, I realized I felt the way I did not because of who she was, but because of my own expectations. What I’d wanted her to be. No matter who she was, she couldn’t possibly live up to my fantasy. When I came to grips with my own issues, I couldn’t hate her. I just felt sad.” He reached into his pocket.

  “This is a photo of Anna Kolnikov and my father.”

  Jordan hesitated. When he looked at the photo, his mouth went dry. The young blond girl in the picture appeared sweet and innocent, fifteen at the most. Just looking at her took his breath away. “She didn’t look like that at all in her later years.”

  “I know. She didn’t when I first met her, either.”

  Jordan started to hand back the photo.

  “You keep it. I have another. They only knew each other a couple of months before she became pregnant, and he left before I was born.”

  Which meant the guy wasn’t Jordan’s father. He’d probably never know who he was. Not that it mattered.

  The worst part was that he’d thought solving Kolnikov’s murder would be the end of it. That he’d be able to sleep at night knowing he hadn’t let her down. But it wasn’t the end of it, and Jordan’s gaze was drawn to the photo again. He’d felt exactly as Nick had when he found out about his biological mother. Disappointment, disgust, hate, he’d felt them all. And still, he’d been compelled to know more about her. “What was she like?”

  “We only met four or five times. And…”

  Jordan knew the words Stanton had left unsaid. It was hard to reconcile the photo with the person she’d become. He cleared his throat. “In my investigation, I learned she helped some people.”

  Nick looked surprised. “Oh?”

  “I heard it from more than one person.”

  The other man nodded. “That’s good.”

  “And we found a witness. A former girlfriend of DeMatta’s who’d gone missing. She used to work for Kolnikov and she’s willing to testify about DeMatta’s part in the murder.”

  Nick rubbed his hands together. “Justice does win out in the end.”

  A smile formed as Jordan looked at Nick—the man who said he was his brother—and as strange as that was, he felt a bond of some kind. They had a history. They had the same DNA. “Yeah, it does.”

  He wondered what Laura would think of what he’d learned today. But Nick Stanton was undercover. He couldn’t tell anyone. Remembering that Nick still thought Laura was involved with DeMatta, he asked, “Why were you following Laura Gianni? And Alysa, why did you get her involved?”

  “All part of the sting. I’m sorry, but I can’t divulge the details.”

  Jordan understood. “Laura’s never worked with DeMatta.”

  Nick’s forehead furrowed. “You sound sure of that? We were at her husband’s funeral when DeMatta gave her the money.”

  “Her ex-husband. And yes, I’m sure. The money DeMatta gave her was the stash you collected last night. She never spent a penny. I’ll give you a copy of my report when it’s completed.”

  Nick’s eyebrows arched. “You sound involved in more than just an investigation.”

  Jordan drew a resigned breath. “Yeah. I’ve been on the case a while.” Fact was, he was as involved as a guy could get.

  He was in love. Still.

  Except he’d screwed up any chance they might’ve had to be together. She probably hated him for all his platitudes about justice, and then judging her in the process. He’d hurt her, unfairly.

  ***

  Laura pulled into the drive and checked the address again. Her battered van seemed out of place in the ritzy upscale neighborhood. She gave a dry laugh. Upscale was an understatement.

  Jordan opened the door before she even had a chance to knock. “Come on in. I’m glad you’re here.”

  She forced a smile. Under other circumstances, she might be glad, too.

  “Let’s go into the living room.”

  She followed, her gaze drifting over the designer furnishings. A black leather couch with straight clean lines faced a flagstone fireplace. Two chamois-colored chairs flanked the couch, and the Oriental area rug in black and tan in the middle of the floor obviously cost a fortune. The same with the black lacquered coffee table. The room was immaculate, as if it had never been used. “Have you lived here long?”

  “Since I graduated college. I guess that’s long.” He motioned for her to sit on the couch. “My mother finally got tired of seeing the place empty and just recently decorated this room. The rest of the house isn’t so nice.”

  She sat, tried to find a comfortable position, but her body felt as stiff as a surfboard. “It’s nice.” Why was she so edgy? This was an informational meeting and nothing more. He’d tell her about DeMatta, then tell her what she and Cait needed to do…and then she’d go home.

  “Before we get into other things,” she said. “I have to tell you I discovered who broke into the house. It was Brandy’s old boyfriend. He was angry at me for keeping them apart.”

  Jordan sat next to her, faced her with one arm slung across the back of the cushions. “Where did you hear that?”

  “He told me. I caught him hanging around the shelter this morning, obviously high on something. He left in a hurry and I don’t think he’ll be back. At least I hope not.”

  His gaze lingered. “That’s good to know. What about the phone calls? Did he make those, too?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so. He’d have no reason to say the things the caller said. But he did say someone told him I was to blame for keeping him from Brandy.”

  His head jerked up. “Who?”

  “I asked, but he ran off.”

  “You think it was Brandy?”

  She shook her head. “No, I don’t. She wouldn’t do something so destructive.”

  “Ever trusting.” He smiled.

  “Until I know otherwise.”

  He nodded. “Well, if things go as I expect they will, we’ll find out soon enough if the phone calls were from DeMatta or one of his hired goons. The paint, too.”

  He kept looking at her, making Laura even more uncomfortable. “So, is Cait going to have to do anything else?”

  “I don’t know. Once we get all the evidence in place, we may be able to make a case without involving her. The black car belonged to the FBI. They were scoping you out because of your past contact with DeMatta.” He reached into a gym bag on the floor and pulled out a tiny red tennis shoe in a Ziploc bag. “Do you recognize this?”

  “Oh, God. That’s Cait’s. She wore the shoes to Eddie’s that night. I couldn’t find it later and worried that I missed it when I collected her things. But, luckily, no one else found it either.” She looked at him. “Until now. Where’d you get it?”

  “It turned up in a search of DeMatta’s office. It’s prime evidence if you can identify it as Cait’s.”

  “It is. They were new and when she discovered it was gone, she was heartbroken.” Her chest constricted as the significance of it hit her. “That means he’s known all along that Cait might have been there.”

  “Looks that way. And there’s reason to believe someone in the department leaked him the information that I was talking to you—his motive for the threats.” He slouched against the couch.

  “Do you think he would’ve carried them out?”

  “I don’t know. He wasn’t in any hurry and he knew where you were.”

  “Odd. Maybe he has a soft spot for kids?”<
br />
  “Maybe. But it doesn’t matter. With all the evidence we’ve got, DeMatta is going away for a long time.”

  Laura placed a hand to her mouth, as if what he’d said was too good to be true.

  “I’m hoping it won’t be necessary for you or Cait to testify, but if it comes to that, you’ll have to be in a protection program.”

  She nodded. “If it means I can finally live a normal life, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  “We also have a witness who will testify about the Kolnikov murder.”

  “Oh—you found Anna’s killer?”

  “I can’t discuss the details, but I think so, yes.”

  Laura blinked back tears of joy, but the darkness in Jordan’s eyes said he didn’t share her happiness. He’d made it clear early on what he thought of people like Anna.

  How could she blame him, given the woman’s reputation? And most of it being true. Still, her guilt weighed heavily on her. She had to set the record straight. “Anna wasn’t the horrible woman you believe her to be, you know. Yes, she did illegal things, but for her, it was the only way to survive. She’d been on the streets since she was a teenager. She didn’t have family or anyone to help her. Just people like DeMatta who exploited her from a very young age.”

  She attributed his silence to disapproval. “Anna helped people. She found my father for me and arranged for me to live with him and finish school. If she hadn’t taken the initiative, I can’t say where or how I’d be living today.” She gave a wry laugh. “I learned later that she had to pay him to take me in. I didn’t know it at the time, and having a home base allowed me to get back on track.”

  Jordan’s eyes went from steel-gray to charcoal.

  “She never took underage girls. That’s why she wouldn’t let me work for her except to clean. My street time came before I met Anna. She only hired women who’d already made the choice and who wanted to continue making their living in that way.”

  Laura’s voice began shaking with emotion as she said, “Anna was the only person who ever cared enough to help me. But she never had anyone to help her.”

  Jordan rubbed his hands together awkwardly as if he didn’t know what to do with them. “I’m sorry. You obviously cared about her very much.”

  “I did. I wish she’d known it.”

  He frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I—I never told her I appreciated all she’d done for me. Instead I blamed her. If she hadn’t paid my father to take me in, I would’ve known him for the bastard he was. I wouldn’t have been so heartbroken when I found out. I was angry at her because she gave me false hopes, and I never kept in touch with her after I found out she’d made a deal with my dad.”

  She drew a shaky breath. “During college, I was ashamed of my past and wanted to put it all behind me, including Anna. It was only after she died that I realized my utter stupidity.” The tears she’d forced away began to spill like rivers down her cheeks.

  Jordan pulled her into his arms. “She helped you and now you’re doing the same for other kids.”

  “I don’t know what I would’ve done without Anna. Probably stayed on the streets.” Her words were muffled against his shoulder.

  “So, there you are. You’re her legacy. What you do is part of that legacy.”

  His kindness and understanding unleashed another flood of tears, and then deep racking sobs shook her body.

  Jordan simply held her closer, tighter.

  As her tears subsided, she said through a sniffle, “If I’d not been so stupid…” Her breath hitched. “I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

  “She knew you were running the shelter, didn’t she?”

  Laura sniffled again. “Yes.”

  “I’m sure knowing what you chose to do with your life, and knowing what a strong person you’ve become, was reward enough for her.”

  Laura looked at Jordan. The thought was like a balm, soothing her ragged emotions.

  As Laura’s crying lessened, Jordan felt the tightness in her shoulders ease. Now that he knew more about Laura’s past, he realized she probably felt he’d abandoned her, too, just like everyone else in her life. And the ugly truth was, he had. And he needed to explain. Nothing could justify his behavior and it wouldn’t change things between them, but he wanted her to understand it wasn’t from malice.

  When she quieted, he held her at arm’s length, then sat her on the couch beside him. “I have some things to say.”

  She sat there like a zombie, her eyes red and her face puffy, but managed to say, “Okay.”

  He drew a breath. “Because of you, I’ve come to realize some things, too. My own stupidity, for one. Mostly, that I’m really good at judging others without understanding all the circumstances.”

  He itched to get up and pace to release the tumult inside, but he needed to stay near her. “When I told you I never tried to find my real mother…I lied. I lied because I was ashamed.” He swallowed. “I was ashamed because when I found her, I discovered she was a prostitute.” He closed his eyes briefly, then looked into Laura’s. “Anna Kolnikov was my mother.”

  Laura’s mouth fell open. “Anna was…I can’t believe—”

  “It’s true.”

  “How did you find out? Through investigating her case?”

  “No, before that. But it was after the murder. When I found out about her, I was horrified. Angry. Ashamed. I wanted to erase it from my mind. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop thinking about her—hating her. And yet, I was compelled to find her murderer. I convinced myself it wasn’t personal, that justice had to be served. I started to reinvestigate.”

  “That’s when you came to talk to me?”

  “Yes. I think I wanted to solve the case to prove to myself I could be objective. That my feelings about her, who she was and what she’d done, didn’t affect me in any way. But they did. I despised her—not because she was who she was, but because she’d disappointed me. All my life I’d fantasized about finding my biological parents…what I somehow imagined to be my real family. My expectations were huge. I expected I’d discover some extraordinary reason why she gave me up, some reason beyond her control.”

  He shook his head. “She killed the fantasy. She’d given me away without a thought. I couldn’t forgive her for that.”

  “Did you find out differently?”

  “No, but it isn’t important anymore. I know who I am. And it took finding her to make me face myself…and to realize what she’d done for me. Had she not put me up for adoption, I wouldn’t have had the life I’ve had. I wouldn’t have had the love and support from two wonderful people who have been parents in every sense of the word. What I regret the most is how I allowed my bitterness to creep into the rest of my life, how I allowed it to color my judgments.” He lowered his head. “I judged my parents…and I judged you.”

  Frustrated, he stood, shoving his hands into his pockets. “My expectations clouded the truth. And the truth is that nothing has changed my feelings about you. I know what kind of person you are. I’ve known from the beginning. You’re everything I wish I was.”

  She sat as still as a statue. And as silent.

  Well, what did he expect? That she’d jump into his arms? He’d hurt her deeply. He didn’t deserve her forgiveness, but he had to apologize, anyway.

  He threw up his hands in a gesture of futility. Kneeling in front of her, he looked into her eyes. “From the bottom of my heart, I’m so very sorry for any pain I’ve caused you.”

  When she remained silent, he got up, shoved a hand through his hair. “I’m not asking for your forgiveness. I don’t deserve it. But I had to tell you how I feel.”

  After what seemed an eternity, she said, “And how do you feel?”

  Surprised she’d even asked, he dropped to the couch beside her and took her hands. “I love you. That’s how I feel. I know that probably seems trite right now, but it’s true.”

  Laura’s heart leaped, but just as quickly her guard came up again. No matt
er what he said right now, no matter how sincere he believed he was at this minute, it didn’t mean he’d be there forever. It didn’t mean he’d love her forever.

  “Laura, what I feel for you is something I never imagined possible. And more than anything I want us to have a chance. I’m hoping you’ll give us a chance.”

  And then what? How could she be sure he wouldn’t leave? If things didn’t work out, she’d be alone again—and the hurt would be that much greater. She moistened her lips. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t need to say anything. I want you to know that watching you with Alysa, with Cait, and with all the people in your life, has given me something I never had before. For you, forgiveness is a big part of love. And loving someone means accepting the whole person, not just the parts that fit. You’ve taught me that self-forgiveness is as important as forgiving others. And it doesn’t happen overnight.”

  She cleared her throat, her emotions raw. He was the most honest, most caring man she’d ever known. And now, even knowing the worst about her, he said he loved her.

  And God knew, she loved him.

  He traced her cheek with his fingertips, his touch gentle and reassuring, then with one finger he tipped her chin up. “You know what I think?”

  “What?”

  “I think you can forgive others without a thought, but you can’t forgive yourself for things you had no control over. It took me a while to understand the significance of my need to find my mother. I needed to know who I am, but what I didn’t realize is that who I am is my past—all of it.”

  He touched his fingers to her chest. “Your heart is full of love…and you are the person I love. All of you, past, present and—” He cleared his throat. “And, I hope…the future.”

  She wanted it so much. Why couldn’t she just let go?

  “I want you in the rest of my life, Laura…but I know how much I hurt you. If you want me to go away, all you have to do is say so.”

  God, no! Her chest constricted at the thought. She didn’t want him to go away. Ever.

  “Do you love me, Laura?”