“So there wasn’t anyone to question it.”
“No.”
Jake leaned back in his chair. “They had their bases covered. They dropped you at the mental hospital and went about their business. The question is, why not kill you outright?”
“They need the film,” Sam said, shrugging. “With me dead, they’d never find it.”
“So why didn’t they torture it out of you? Sodium Pentothal would have been quicker if it had worked, but they had other options than locking you up in a hospital and drugging you.”
“Torture?” The word conjured all sorts of unpleasant images that Sam didn’t want to think about.
“Sure. They don’t seem like they’re above inflicting a little pain.”
Sam began to shake. She gripped her glass tightly, trying to still the tremors shuddering through her body. “I never thought of that.”
“Well, think about it the next time you decide to run off.” Jake folded the articles and slid them into his back pocket. “By the way, who did you send the film to?”
“My father.”
Jake stared at her. “I thought you said you didn’t have any family.”
“I haven’t seen him in over twenty years. I might as well not have any family.”
“So why in the hell did you send the film to him?”
Sam sighed. “I didn’t even know where my father was until about a year ago He left my mother and me when I was a kid and I never heard from him. I hired a private investigator to track him down. Turned out that he was living in Key West.”
“So you decided to go visit him.”
“Something like that. I got the Miami assignment and I thought I’d go see him.” Sam shook her head. “Once I got to Miami I lost my nerve and changed my mind.”
“Why?”
“It’s been over twenty years. It’s not likely we’re going to bond now.” Sam tried to laugh but emotion clogged her throat. For twenty years she’d wondered why her father didn’t love her. Why he’d never called her or written her. Why he’d never even sent a birthday card.
“You must have thought differently when you hired someone to find him.”
“Maybe. But once I got here, I didn’t see the point. Then I got attacked by those men and I mailed the film to the first address that popped into my head.” That had been easy enough, considering how many times she’d written letters to her father in the six months before going to Miami Of course, she’d torn up all but the last letter.
“Did your father know you were coming?”
“I sent a letter to him the day I left Atlanta.”
“But nobody knew he was alive?”
Sam shook her head. “He’s not listed on anything but my birth certificate.”
“So that means the men who are after you don’t know he exists yet.” Jake sat upright, disturbing Fletcher from his nap. The big dog looked up, then flopped back onto his side.
“Is that good?”
Jake nodded, a determined gleam in his eye. “It means we have an ally. And he’s got the film. But they’ve had over a month to find out about you and it’s only a matter of time before they track down your father.”
Sam held up her hands. “Whoa. I don’t know about the ally part. Didn’t you hear me? My father hasn’t wanted anything to do with me for the past twenty years.”
“Fine. But he’s still got the film.”
“Right. And I still have people looking for me.”
Jake stood. “Then I guess we’d better get going. Unless you’re ready to give up.”
“I’ve had a change of heart. I’m going to see this thing through.” Sam pushed her chair in and took the last sip of her lemonade. “Or die trying.”
“Thatta girl. Come on, Fletch,” Jake called as he led the way back through the restaurant.
“What did you mean about me being their nightmare?” Sam asked when they were out on the street again.
“Just that you’re the one person who can bring them to their knees.” They stopped at the corner and waited for the light to change.
“Funny, I don’t feel like it.”
“But you are. Now all we have to do is make their worst nightmare come true.”
“And we do that with the film?” They crossed Flagler Street, which was bustling at this hour with tourists and teenagers on spring break.
“Right. Once we figure out who it is we’re dealing with, the battle is half won.”
“And what’s the other half?” she asked. They were almost at the library. Sam walked a little faster, anxious to be on their way. And away from Miami.
Jake didn’t answer her until they reached the van. He unlocked her door and opened it. Fletcher squeezed into the back seat. “The other half is going to be convincing the police, the feds and whoever else it takes that we’re telling the truth.” He pushed the lock and slammed the door when she climbed in.
Sam buckled her seat belt as Jake stepped into the driver’s seat, “How are we going to convince them?”
Jake started the engine. “I don’t know. We’ll figure it out after we know who’s after us.”
“You don’t really have a plan, do you?”
Jake shot her a hard look tempered with a halfhearted smile as they pulled out into the congested traffic. “Planning is highly overrated.”
“Yeah? What about living?”
“Very funny.” He drove through the clogged streets of downtown Miami and into what looked like an older section of the city.
“Where are we going?”
“I want to check out my place.”
Every muscle in Sam’s body tensed. “Do you think that’s smart?”
“I’m not going in. I just want to see if they’ve been here.” He turned onto a shady, tree-lined street. There were brick and stucco town houses on both sides. “Damn.”
Sam looked around. “What?”
“They’re still here.”
She was missing something. “How can you tell?”
Jake never slowed down. They got to the end of the street and he made a right turn. “Two unmarked cars across the street. They were hoping I’d come back.”
Sam looked over her shoulder. “Do you think they saw us?”
“Probably not. They’re looking for my SUV. Just the same, let’s get out of here.”
“Fine by me. The farther I get from Miami, the better I’ll feel.”
“Glad to hear it,” Jake said. “But I do know one thing.”
“Yeah? What?” Sam asked, staring out the window as the streets of Miami rolled by.
“Kissing you was definitely more fun than shaking you would have been. And you know what else?”
Sam shook her head, feeling her cheeks grow warm. What had she been thinking? Her conscience told her that where Jake was concerned, she didn’t seem to do much thinking at all.
“If you do anything so stupid as try to run off without me again, I may not stop at just kissing you.”
“Is that a threat?” she asked hoarsely, her mouth suddenly going dry despite the faint, lingering taste of lemonade She wanted to believe it was just another side effect of the tranquillizers
Jake’s voice thrummed with emotion. “Oh, no, sweetheart. It’s a promise.” He sent her a sideways glance before returning his eyes to the road. “One I wouldn’t mind keeping.”
Chapter 7
The air conditioner died an hour outside Miami. Jake glanced at the clock and cursed his lousy luck.
Sam was trying to keep cool by fanning herself with a map she’d found in the glove box. Once in a while a breeze would waft to Jake’s side of the van, bringing a moment of tepid relief from the hot stillness. Sam shifted in her seat, mumbling under her breath. Jake was thankful he couldn’t hear her, because she didn’t sound too happy.
“Stop fidgeting. You’re making me crazy,” he said, his fingers skipping over the radio buttons as he tried to get a station to come in clear. Nothing but static. “To hell with it.” He switched off the radio and swiped at the
sweat that beaded his forehead.
“Sorry to bother you,” she said, not sounding sorry at all. “Maybe you haven’t noticed but it’s hot in here.” Fletcher whined in agreement.
“There’s nothing I can do about it now.”
“Thanks for nothing,” she snapped.
He knew she was still going through withdrawal and he shouldn’t listen to her. But the heat was bothering him, too. “I’m sorry I can’t provide you with the luxurious accommodations you’re used to.”
“You have no idea what I’m used to.”
“That’s right So why don’t you stop complaining and let me drive?”
“You started it”
She was right about that. He’d started it back there in Miami. Kissing her hadn’t been on his agenda, but when it got right down to it, he hadn’t minded one bit. In fact, given half a chance, he’d probably do it again.
She was right about something else, too, he mused. He didn’t have a plan. Not much of one, anyway. He was winging this one by the seat of his pants—pants that felt glued to his skin by a layer of perspiration. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Thinking about kissing Sam again was the last thing he needed on his mind.
“I started it,” he said. “And I’m finishing it. Just make do. We’ll be in Key West in about three hours.” He glanced at the dashboard clock. They’d have to spend the night in Key West because there was no way he was going to make the return trip today.
“Three hours with no air,” Sam grumbled, shifting in her seat again.
“Sorry”
“I’ll bet you are.”
Out of the corner of his eye Jake watched Sam’s fingers undo a button on her shirt. When her fingers didn’t hesitate to undo a second button, he swallowed hard. A horn honked behind them and Jake noticed he’d let up on the gas. He refocused his attention on the road, determined not to look Sam’s way.
“I’ve got to get out of these clothes,” Sam said. “I’m dying.” She unfastened her seat belt.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Jake glanced over as she turned toward him, and he caught a glimpse of pale skin disappearing into tempting shadows beneath her shirt.
“To change.”
Jake watched her in the rearview mirror as she lurched toward the back of the van. She leaned over into the cargo bin to get her bag and then turned, meeting his eyes in the motor.
“Sorry, no peep shows today. Keep your eyes on the road. You, too, Fletcher.”
If it hadn’t been so damn hot already, Jake probably would have blushed. Instead, he angled the rearview mirror up. “Whatever you say, boss.” Fletcher’s tags jingled. Lucky dog, he could probably get away with a quick look.
It was quiet, as if she expected him to turn around and look. Then Jake heard the distinct sound of a zipper. He gripped the steering wheel tighter, focusing on a point in the distance.
Sam moved up into his field of vision after a moment and he nearly lost control of the van again. She was wearing some kind of T-shirt—a red one with no sleeves and a low neckline.
“You can fix that now,” she said, climbing back into her seat and fastening the seat belt.
“What?”
“The mirror.” She gestured at the rearview mirror. “You can adjust it now.”
“Oh. Right,” Jake said, tearing his eyes away from the full slope of her breasts to tilt the mirror. The T-shirt came down to her thighs, he noticed. And that wasn’t all he noticed.
“Are you wearing anything under that?” he asked, determined to keep his eyes on the road.
“Of course I am.”
He thought twice about asking her what.
Sam leaned forward and fumbled with the radio dial. The neck of her T-shirt dipped impossibly low and Jake sighed. It was going to be a long drive. She tuned in to a Latin station and settled back in her chair. The rhythmic music conjured up images of fire and passion; of sensual, fluid motion; skin against skin; pure heat....
“Salsa.”
“Huh?” Jake said, his face as hot as the time his mother had caught him with a nudie magazine.
“I think this is what they call salsa music. I like it.”
Sam sat back in her seat and Jake noticed the telltale sway of her breasts beneath the shirt. God help him, she wasn’t wearing a bra. No bra and just that flimsy little T-shirt. He groaned.
She was silent for a heartbeat and he thought, prayed, that it would last. He was walking a thin edge of control, here. How she did it to him he couldn’t begin to figure out. But one thing was certain: the lady got him hot.
“Jake?”
“Will you be quiet for ten minutes? And sit still.” He kept his eyes on the long stretch of highway ahead of him, refusing to look at her. Now, if he could only figure out a way to stop thinking about her.
“I’ll sit still if you’ll talk to me instead of snapping my head off every time I say something.”
“Fine.”
“There you go again.”
Instead of answering her and opening a whole other can of worms, he changed tactics. “Sorry. The heat is getting to me, too.” He just wouldn’t tell her it was the heat she radiated and not the Florida sun that caused his problems. “What do you want to talk about?” He braced himself for the worst.
“Tell me about your family.”
“Why?” Of all the things she could have said, that one was a surprise.
“I don’t know. It just sounds like you’ve got a nice family.”
Jake shrugged, feeling some of the tension ease out of his shoulders. “I guess. There are a couple we don’t invite to the reunions, but on the whole they’re an okay bunch.”
“Even you,” she said.
“If you say so.”
“I say so. So there’s you, Mac, Brian and Annie?”
“That’s us. The Four Musketeers.” Jake grinned at the nickname their mother had given them when they were kids. For siblings, they’d been pretty close.
“What about your parents?”
“My mom died two years ago,” Jake said. He adjusted the visor as the afternoon sun glinted off the hood of the van. “Dad was killed when I was fourteen. He was a cop.”
“I’m sorry.” Sam’s voice was hushed. “Is that why you became a cop?”
“Not really. I intended to be a psychologist.” He smiled in response to Sam’s snort. No doubt she was trying to imagine him in a suit sitting across a desk from a patient. He had to admit, it was difficult.
“So how’d you end up being a detective?”
“A double major in psychology and criminal justice. A friend of my dad’s recruited me right out of grad school. I was sick of sitting in a classroom so it sounded like a good deal for a year or two.”
Sam played with the radio dial as the Latin music turned to static and found an oldies station. He glanced over at her, into eyes that were as green as the Caribbean in this light. Again Jake felt the sensual pull toward her that he’d felt back in Miami. What was it about this woman that turned his insides upside down?
“But you stayed,” she said, nodding.
“Something like that. Before I knew it, I was on the fast track.”
“What happened?”
It was a reasonable question. But it still left a raw spot on his ego to answer it. “I was suspended.”
He glanced over at her and saw her eyes widen. “Why?”
“Long story. Basically, I screwed up and got my partner killed.” He heard Sam’s gasp and it reverberated through the hollow space inside him. “I was cleared of any wrongdoing, but I didn’t see the point in staying on.” There was more to it than that, but he didn’t elaborate. He flashed her a grin. “Now I’m living the easy life,” he said, assuming a smooth Jamaican drawl. “No worries.”
“Right. Except me and this nightmare I’ve dragged you into.”
“Yeah, well, I was starting to enjoy life a little too much, I guess. Time to shake things up a bit, huh?”
“I could live without it
,” Sam answered.
“A hotshot photographer like you? I’d figure you for the high-profile dangerous life.”
Sam shook her head. “Not anymore. Give me a quiet beach and a book and I’m happy.”
“Tell me about the Pulitzer. That’s a pretty big deal.”
“I don’t want to talk about that.” Her words were sharp with pain and anger.
“All right,” Jake said gently. “Tell me about your life.”
He could almost feel Sam pull away. “That’s not a great topic, either” She sighed and looked out the window.
The sun shone brilliantly on the ocean. The only thing separating them from the water was a narrow strip of sand and asphalt. Viewed from the sticky heat of the van, the ocean was a temptation. Jake looked at the soft curve of Sam’s cheek, at her pale lashes against pale skin. Temptation. He turned his eyes back to the road, resisting the ocean and Sam. For now.
“Tell me anyway,” he said.
She sighed. “My father left us when I was six. He was in the navy. My mother had never worked a day in her life so we spent the next ten years moving from state to state, living with various relatives while she tried to earn a living for us.” Her hand came up to her face and he wondered if she was crying.
“No brothers or sisters?”
“No, just me and Mom. She died the year I left for college.”
“I’m sorry.”
Sam shrugged and pushed her hair back off her neck. “She did the best she could.”
“What made you want to find your father?”
He could feel her hesitation. “I’m not sure. I guess I wanted to know if he had another family, if he thought about us. If I had any siblings.”
“What do you think you’ll say to him when you see him?” It wasn’t an idle question Jake could empathize with Sam, but the last thing they needed right now was a family squabble. They had to get the film and deal with that.
“I don’t know. I’ll probably ask him why he left. Why he never called or wrote.” Her voice got raspy and Jake could hear her fight for control. “Why he didn’t love me enough to stay.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said, uncomfortable with her pain.
“Not your fault.” She swiped at her face with the back of her hand. “I’m still feeling a little raw from the drugs. It makes me emotional.” It was an excuse and they both knew it, but Jake kept quiet.
Dangerous Curves Page 8
