by Debra Webb
“Scott?” Renewed confusion chased away the rest of the emotions playing out in her eyes. “Why on earth would he say something like that? We went to school together. He’s come to picnics and family get-togethers at our house for as long as I can remember. He helped Will through physics in high school.” She reached into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out her cell phone. “I want him to say that to me.”
“Wait.” Jonathan put his hand over hers. The contact made his breath catch. She stared up at him as if she’d experienced the same jolt. When he’d recovered, he offered, “It’s important that we consider all the possibilities, even the ones that turn out to be rumors. Tell me about Rayburn.”
She relaxed a fraction. “He’s a little older than me and kind of different from most guys around here.”
“Define different,” Jonathan suggested.
She shrugged. “This is Alabama. Football is a religion and hunting is a male rite of passage. Scott preferred reading and socializing. He was always more like one of the girls. He went to law school and has his own boutique law firm downtown. Never married. He loves his work too much.”
“Do you know of any reason why he would dislike your uncle? Does he have a grudge against your family? Any reason at all that he would spread these kinds of rumors?”
Melissa shook her head. “That’s the part that doesn’t make sense. My mother always said that actions speak louder than words. Scott has always acted as if he loves us.” She rubbed her eyes. “Folks used to insist he had his eye on me, but I never noticed.”
When he didn’t respond, Melissa glanced around and said, “I guess we should get going.”
An intense sensation jabbed Jonathan. He stood very still, denied the feeling, as she walked toward her car.
Jealousy.
He gave himself a swift mental kick. He had no right to be jealous where Melissa was concerned.
A few hours in Melissa’s presence and already he was losing his hold on control.
The cell in Jonathan’s pocket vibrated. He checked the screen and saw it was an Out of Area number. The boss.
“Foley,” he announced in greeting.
“Thought I’d let you know that Victor Lennox has agreed to flip on his connections.”
Not really news to Jonathan. He’d expected as much. “I suppose that’s a good thing.” To Jonathan it meant that the man would get off with a slap on the wrists for his crimes.
“Don’t worry,” his employer said knowingly, “he’s not going to get off as easy as you think. Lennox isn’t the sort they let walk away.”
Jonathan sure hoped not.
“How are things in Alabama?”
The question surprised Jonathan. His employer rarely delved into personal territory on any level. “The child is still missing and the investigation is moving at about the speed of molasses.”
“Let me know if you need anything in the way of backup. I stand behind my people on and off the job. You don’t need to tread water there or anywhere else.”
“Thank you, sir. I’ll keep that in mind.”
The connection severed.
Jonathan slid the phone back into his pocket. Strange. He’d never worked for an employer whose name he didn’t know much less whose face he’d never seen.
Nonetheless, he trusted his instincts and not a single warning had gone off where the man was concerned. He operated this new Equalizers agency with utter discretion and immense compassion.
A man like that couldn’t be all bad.
Jonathan joined Melissa in the car. She’d settled into the passenger seat. Driving wouldn’t be in her best interest or anyone else’s just now.
For a moment they sat in silence. He didn’t want to prod her for answers. She was tired and worried. Jonathan could understand each of those reactions.
“I’m scared, Jonathan.”
He turned to her, his chest tight at the sound of her voice. “I know.”
“If someone has hurt that baby…” She closed her eyes and held back the emotions making her lips tremble.
He wanted to tell her not to worry, but the truth was, at this point, the possibility that Polly was a victim of some unspeakable violence was extremely high.
“We’ll find her,” he promised. “And then we’ll deal with whatever we have to deal with.”
A tear slid down Melissa’s cheek. “I’ve spent my entire adult life taking care of people as a nurse. Helping those who can’t care for themselves.” She moved her head side to side. “But I swear, if someone hurt that child, I want to hurt them.” She compressed her lips and visibly fought for composure. “If she’s…” she swallowed with difficulty “…dead…I want whoever is responsible to…” she drew in a jerky breath “…I want them to pay.”
Chapter Seven
Chicago, 4:00 p.m.
He sat at a table inside Maggie’s Coffee House. The one closest to the window that provided the most direct view of the building across the street.
The Colby Agency.
Maggie James swiped at the counter, her attention not on business as it should be. Her entire being was focused on him.
Every day he came into her shop and sat from three until six or seven, depending upon when the staff at the Colby Agency left for the day. He stayed, staring like that, until the lights on the fourth floor across the street went out.
Her chest ached as she drew in a ragged breath. She wanted to order him out of her life. For months now she had known this thing between them would come to no good, but she couldn’t bring herself to let go. He was an addiction to her. She couldn’t sleep if he didn’t come by the shop every day. Couldn’t breathe if he didn’t make love to her almost as often.
Night after night he came to her bed and made love to her as no other man ever had. Then he disappeared into the night, like the fog after a long, hard rain. He’d told her his name was Slade Keaton. That he was thirty. A full two years younger than her. She had no idea where he’d come from or what he’d done before. He was here now, and that was what mattered. That was his stock answer.
A big mistake, Maggie.
She forced her attention back to cleaning up after the last of the lunch stragglers. She had worked hard to make something of herself, to make this coffee shop the place to stop for a relaxing break on the Magnificent Mile. Why screw it up now by getting involved with trouble?
She had been asking herself that question for well over six months now. Somehow she never seemed able to dredge up the proper answer. The answer that would put her back on track and out of this crazy spin cycle.
Broad, square hands flattened on the counter she’d just scrubbed. Maggie’s breath caught as her gaze lifted and collided with steel gray eyes. She laughed tightly. “You startled me.”
That smile that swept away every fiber of her resistance spread across his handsome face. “I’ll be back around seven-thirty.”
She covertly glanced at the fourth floor of the building across the street. He was leaving before the lights went out? “Seven-thirty?” she asked. It wasn’t exactly a clever response, but it was all she had.
“We’re going to dinner.”
She perked up. “Dinner?” Jeez, she sounded like a canary, repeating everything he said. He so rarely did anything spontaneous, the announcement had anticipation zinging through her.
“That’s right.” He winked. “Wear that little green dress I like so much.”
Her head moved up and down and her lips smiled. She recognized both these things but her heart wouldn’t slow down enough for her to respond any other way.
He squeezed her hand.
Then he was gone.
She watched him stride down the sidewalk until he was out of view, then her gaze drifted to the fourth floor across the way.
As if he possessed some sixth sense or ESP or whatever, the lights went out.
The folks at the Colby Agency were going home.
8:00 p.m.
VICTORIA COLBY-CAMP placed the linen napkin in he
r lap as her husband took his seat across from her. He looked more handsome than ever in his navy suit. She loved that color on him.
Incredibly, Lucas Camp had, indeed, retired from his government consulting work. He spent several days per week working alongside her at the Colby Agency. Victoria could not be happier. Having both her husband and her son at the agency with her was a dream come true. Contentment settled deep inside her.
She had waited a long, long time for this level of happiness.
“Wine?” Lucas asked as the waiter approached their table.
“Absolutely.”
Lucas ordered the finest house wine. She loved that he knew her so very well. This was her favorite restaurant, and he’d ordered her favorite wine.
When the waiter had moved on, Lucas settled his gaze on her. “Victoria, I have a proposition for you.”
She lifted her eyebrows in question. “Sounds intriguing.”
“We haven’t taken a vacation since our honey moon.” He deftly draped a napkin in his lap. “I’m thinking white sands and sparkling blue waters.”
“Ah, Grand Cayman.” She’d mentioned never having been there. Once again, her dear husband wanted to please her. But she also knew a place he treasured very much. “How about Puerto Vallarta?”
His knowing gaze narrowed. “Shall we toss a coin?”
“We took a cruise last time,” she reminded him.
He nodded. “We’ll look into reservations for Mexico then.”
The waiter arrived and poured their wine. Lucas thanked him. “Speaking of reservations,” he said when they were alone again—if one could be alone in a popular restaurant during the dinner hour. “I presume you have no reservations regarding Jim’s ability to handle the agency if we’re gone a week or two.”
“I do not.” Her son had done a spectacular job. The merger between his staff of former Equalizers and her investigators at the agency was now seamless. The final result was a phenomenal team.
“Jim doesn’t appear to miss running his own shop,” Lucas commented.
“I agree.” Jim had sold the brownstone as well as the Equalizers business several months ago. “He’s home now, in every respect.” Lucas knew how much that meant to her. “I am so grateful.”
Lucas reached across the table and patted her hand. “As am I.” He inclined his head and looked past Victoria. “Isn’t that Maggie?”
Victoria turned to see who’d entered the dining room. The hostess led a handsome couple through the maze of elegantly dressed tables. “Yes, it is Maggie.” Maggie James owned and operated the coffee house across the street from the agency. She noticed Victoria and smiled, then waved.
Maggie touched her dinner companion’s arm and gestured to Victoria and Lucas’s table. The man with Maggie said something to the hostess, then the two of them made their way over.
“He’s quite handsome,” Victoria said in an aside to Lucas.
“I’ll take your word for that,” he murmured back, then stood. “Maggie.” Lucas gave her a peck on the cheek.
Maggie literally beamed. “What a coincidence.”
“Vinelli’s is my favorite restaurant,” Victoria said. “If you haven’t been here before, you’re going to love it.”
“Oh.” Maggie pressed a hand to her chest. “Forgive me. This is Slade Keaton.” She turned to the tall, silent man at her side. “Slade, this is Victoria Colby-Camp and her husband, Lucas.”
Slade nodded to Victoria. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Colby-Camp.”
Lucas extended his hand. “Keaton.”
“Mr. Camp.”
Maybe it was Victoria’s imagination but Maggie’s friend seemed slow to take Lucas’s hand. Once he did, however, they shook firmly. Maybe she was just tired. They’d had a long week at the agency. Closing up shop a couple of hours early had been the least she could do for her staff.
Victoria studied the man, Slade Keaton, while Maggie and Lucas made small talk. Lucas, she knew, had a soft spot for the hardworking lady. Maggie was utterly charming and quite lovely, with fiery red hair and vibrant green eyes. She and her companion made quite a handsome couple.
Keaton watched Lucas closely as he spoke. Was it a protective instinct toward his lady? Perhaps, Victoria thought. But something about him didn’t feel quite right to her.
Keaton suddenly turned his face ever so slightly and smiled at Victoria, as if he’d heard the thought.
Don’t be foolish. Victoria blamed her suspicions on her state of fatigue. Besides, how was a man supposed to act when introduced to total strangers in the middle of a restaurant when he had obviously come to be seated and served?
“The hostess is waiting,” he said to Maggie. To Lucas and Victoria, he said, “Enjoy your meal.”
When the two had moved on to their table, Lucas leaned forward. “I think this is the first time I’ve seen Maggie on a date.”
“She works so hard,” Victoria agreed. “I’m glad she’s taking some time for herself.”
Lucas made an agreeable sound, but his attention remained on the couple being seated a few tables away.
Victoria started to ask Lucas if he’d sensed any thing odd about the man but decided against it.
Tonight was about relaxing, not dissecting the social life of someone as kind as Maggie James.
Victoria glanced at the man accompanying Maggie once more. He looked directly at her as if he’d felt her gaze on him. A second, then two and three passed before he looked away.
Odd.
Victoria banished the idea…but the one thing she had always trusted, besides her husband, of course, was her instincts.
Funny how they were humming just now.
Perhaps it would be in Maggie’s best interest if Victoria did a little looking into this Slade Keaton. It wouldn’t hurt and Maggie never had to know.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Lucas said, summoning her from the scheming thoughts.
“I’m certain you don’t.” Victoria reached for her wine.
“You’re thinking,” Lucas said, picking up his own glass, “that you might check out Mr. Keaton, just to make sure Maggie isn’t getting herself into any trouble.”
Victoria tried to keep the guilt out of her expression. It didn’t work. I knew it flashed in Lucas’s eyes. “She’s likely quite lonely. A lonely woman is easy prey.”
Lucas held up his glass for a toast. “To the most caring and compassionate woman I know.”
Victoria blushed and clinked her glass against his. “And one who can be somewhat nosy from time to time.”
“Don’t worry about Maggie,” Lucas assured her. “I’ll look into Keaton myself.”
“Now who’s being nosy?” Victoria laughed. It felt good after the busy week they’d had.
“What can I say?” Lucas enjoyed a long swallow of his wine. “I cut my investigative teeth on the CIA. I can’t help myself.”
Victoria stole a look at the couple in question. “Well, I hope Mr. Keaton is on the up and up.” If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t be hiding anything for long. No one could hide a single fact from Lucas Camp when he chose to find the whole story.
“We’ll soon know.”
Victoria relaxed. Maggie was in good hands with Lucas providing backup.
The world needed more men like Lucas Camp.
Chapter Eight
Bay Minette, 8:30 p.m.
Where was Harry? Melissa needed him here. He always made the most confusing or troubling situations better.
Melissa paced the length of the living room again. She’d been doing that for hours now. Jonathan had tried to calm her but his reassuring words had not helped.
Floyd Harper was dead. He’d fallen off the over-pass on Main Street. It appeared to be an accident, but the chief wouldn’t make an official announcement until the forensics work was completed.
That Harper was the only witness to Stevie having left town made his sudden death suspicious.
Chief Talbot had called with word on that awful develo
pment an hour ago. He hadn’t wanted Melissa to see it on the news or hear it any other way. Already folks were tying it to Polly’s disappearance. Calling it murder.
Melissa hugged her middle. Mr. Harper was an alcoholic, that was all too true. But, to her knowledge, he had never hurt a flea. He lived in an old rundown house trailer on the edge of town and spent most of his days liquored up on whatever he could afford. Yet, he never got into trouble. Never bothered anyone. The only time he’d ever spent a night in jail was the time he’d passed out on a park bench and the chief had insisted he sleep it off in a cell so Harper would remember never to do anything like that again.
How could he have anything to do with Polly’s disappearance? The only connection was that Harper had been the one to confirm Stevie had gotten on that bus to Nashville.
Melissa raked her fingers through her hair, massaged her skull in an effort to ease the tension there. This just didn’t make sense. Stevie would never hurt Polly. Certainly Mr. Harper wouldn’t. How on earth could this be happening?
“Tell me again what happened to Price’s family.”
She turned to Jonathan when he spoke. He sat on the sofa surrounded by old high school yearbooks and family photos that included Stevie. “His mother abandoned him when he was just a kid and his father passed on years later. His father was another Floyd Harper. He couldn’t stay sober, much less take care of a child. Folks around town, my family in particular, picked up his slack. Stevie’s parents weren’t bad people; they just had a lot of bad breaks.”
Jonathan studied several photos that he’d spread on the coffee table in front of him. “He seems very happy with your family.”
Exhausted, Melissa sat down on the sofa next to him. Her pulse sped up with the brush of their shoulders. She’d been reacting that way all day. It was ridiculous but she couldn’t suppress her body’s reactions. “Stevie has been like a part of the family since he was a kid.” The theory that he might have taken Polly didn’t make sense. None at all. It was about as farfetched as the idea that Uncle Harry was having an affair with Carol Talbot. Ridiculous.
