Shadow of Doubt

by Linda Poitevin

  "Mr. Lazarus."

  Dark eyes narrowed, flickered in surprise, then lit with a lazy smile. "Well, well, well. If it isn't little Kate Dexter. I almost didn't recognize you with all your clothes on."

  A heavy, possessive hand settled on Kate's good shoulder. She ignored it. Jimmy did not. His gaze lifted, turned speculative, returned to her.

  "So. Come back to work for me, have you?" he asked, reaching for the coffee cup in front of him.

  Kate snorted. "You know I have the utmost respect for you and your establishment, Jimmy, but no. Not in a million years."

  "Too bad. You were a damned fine waitress. One of my best." The bar owner took a sip, then set the cup back in its saucer. He grinned at her, his leer as practiced as it was obvious. "Looks like you'd still earn yourself some decent tips."

  Jonas's grip on Kate's shoulder tightened. She winced and pried his fingers loose.

  "Relax," she said. "Mr. Lazarus is just trying to get a rise out of me."

  Jimmy chuckled. "Not you. Him. Looks like I'm succeeding, too." He smoothed the fringe on the front of his black, western-style shirt. Kate couldn't see the rest of him, but she knew his pants would match the shirt, and that the cowboy boots on the feet tucked under the table would be of the finest leather money could buy. James Lazarus's establishment made him a lot of money, mostly because—thanks to Kate—it was still up and running.

  "So, Katie my sweet, to what do I owe the honor? I doubt you've come just to introduce your boyfriend to me."

  "He's not my boyfriend, he's—" Kate stopped and shot a look at the other table occupants, both young and male, both too interested in her words by far. She recognized neither. "Do you mind if we speak alone?"

  Jimmy regarded her for a moment, then tipped his head sideways. Without question, both young men rose and headed toward the stage.

  "My nephews," Jimmy said, shaking his head, "but you're right not to trust them. I don't, either. Not as far as I can throw them."

  "Trouble?" Kate asked.

  "Arrogance. Think they know better than their old uncle. I'm trying to keep them honest, but it's an ongoing battle." Jimmy took another swig of coffee. "Enough about me. What do you need?"

  Kate grimaced. "I look that desperate, do I?"

  "No. But he does." Jimmy jerked his chin in Jonas's direction, then kicked a chair toward him. Kate noted she'd been right about the boots. "Sit," Jimmy told Jonas. "If you keep looking at the door like that, people are going to think you're running from something."

  Jonas went even more rigid than he'd been, and Kate brushed her fingers against the back of his hand. Their gazes locked, mistrust shadowing his. Then, his lips drawing tight, he positioned the chair between Jimmy and Kate. He sat.

  "That's better," Jimmy said. He divided his attention between Kate and his coffee. "So. What is it you need?"

  "Transportation across the river. Tonight, if possible."

  Jimmy nearly choked. Black eyes bored into hers. "Excuse me? You're not serious."

  "Deadly so. We can pay, but not much."

  Jimmy banged the cup into its saucer. His gaze darted around the bar. "What the hell is this?" he demanded. "Another operation? You know I don't make runs. I didn't three years ago, and I don't now, and if anyone's said otherwise, they're a goddamn liar."

  "This isn't about you, Jimmy. It's about me. Us. We're in trouble."

  The man whose life she'd turned upside down with her undercover presence in his bar three years before regarded her suspiciously. "Do you really think I'm that naive? You're a—" he broke off, glanced around, and lowered his voice to a hiss. "You're a cop, damn it, and cops don't come to one-time informants for help."

  "They do when they have no other options."

  He stared at her, then he shook his head. "No. No way. I'm not falling for—"

  "Jimmy." Kate reached out to lay a hand on his forearm, the cotton of his sleeve smooth beneath her fingertips. "You owe me."

  Lazarus's mouth pulled tight. After a long moment, he lifted his free hand to beckon over a waitress, and they all waited while she poured fresh coffee for him. When she'd retreated, he stirred two packets of sugar into the cup before he scowled at Kate again.

  "I want your word this isn't a setup."

  "You have it."

  Another silence. A sigh. "I may know someone, but it will cost you. A grand each. Up front."

  Kate shook her head. "I don't have that much. Three hundred for both of us. And we need a car on the other side."

  Jimmy snorted. Kate waited. She sensed Jonas’s eyes on her, but she kept her attention on Lazarus. On willing the bar owner to come through for her. For them. Jimmy's gaze flicked between them.

  "He owes me a favor, so I can get him to agree to five hundred for both," he said at last. "But the car will cost you extra."

  She hesitated. Heaven knew how long this little adventure of theirs was going to last. Dave had said there was a thousand available in his account. If they blew through five hundred of that just to cross the river, it wouldn't leave much to see them through. And even more for a vehicle?

  "Agreed," Jonas intervened. Kate turned to him, startled, and he said, "We'll be good once we get to...where we're going."

  Of course. The emergency stash he’d mentioned. All good undercover operatives had one, just in case things went south on the job and they needed a fast out. She nodded and turned back to Jimmy.

  "It has to be tonight," she said.

  Hard eyes stared at her. "I have your word. No bullshit."

  "No bullshit."

  Lazarus stood up. With deliberate care, he straightened his shirtfront and adjusted his belt buckle, a large silver rectangle with an eagle stamped on it. Then he caught the waitress's attention, pointed to the coffee cup on the table, and held up two fingers. The scantily clad girl nodded and headed for the bar counter. Jimmy looked down at Kate.

  "I'll make the call," he said. "Coffee's on the house."

  Chapter 28

  Jonas shouldered through the heavy wooden door, holding it open barely long enough for Kate to emerge onto the sidewalk beside him. He drew a deep lungful of chill autumn air. It did nothing to cool the temper that had been simmering since they'd sat down at that table with Lazarus. The door swung shut behind them, muffling the thud of the music.

  He glowered at his partner, who studied the traffic, her features calm but watchful, seemingly unaffected by the surroundings they'd just left. No matter how long he worked undercover, places like that always managed to make him feel like he needed a shower...or fumigation...or both.

  Surroundings Kate had once worked in, where men had come on to her. Made lewd suggestions to her. Slid their hands over her.

  He knew it shouldn't bother him, but it did. It bothered him a lot. He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets.

  Kate glanced his way. "Everything okay?"

  "Peachy," he muttered.

  She regarded him narrowly, then shrugged and went back to watching the traffic. "I did some calculations, by the way. By the time we pay Jimmy’s friend, we'll have a grand total of thirteen dollars and sixty-seven cents left in Dave's account. We'd better hope that car has a full tank of gas. And that your stash is where you left it in Jersey."

  "Jennings said there was more in the savings account. Take that. I'm good for it," he replied, his tone curt to the point of rudeness.

  Kate pressed her lips together, and for a second he thought she might call him on his foul mood. He almost wished she would. A good argument might distract him from the "me Tarzan" urges that made him want to march back inside and take on Lazarus and every other male in the place.

  But Kate said nothing. Stuffing her fingertips into the pockets of her jeans, she started walking back toward the alley where they'd left the SUV. Irritated all over again, Jonas fell into step beside her.

  "I'd forgotten how loud that place is," she remarked, sticking a finger into her ear and wiggling it. "Can you believe I lasted six months there? It's a wo
nder I had any hearing left by the time I was done."

  "I can't believe you worked there, period," Jonas retorted. "Please tell me you broke the fingers of anyone touching you the way that jackass in there was doing."

  She dimpled a grin up at him. "And put my tips at risk?"

  "It's not funny," he snapped, his hands bunching into fists in his pockets.

  Kate stopped walking. She crossed her arms. "Right," she said, her good humor dissolving. "You've been like a bear with a sore ass ever since breakfast, Burke. Just what the hell is your problem?"

  Jonas looked down at her. For the first time ever, he noticed a smattering of tiny freckles across the bridge of her nose. He swallowed hard and grated out the truth. "You. You're my problem."

  Then, because she might read too much into the words—and because they had somehow robbed him of air and he could think of no other way to rescue himself—he added in a snarl, "You working there. Dealing with those perverts. Being touched like that. What the hell did you think you were doing, Kate?"

  She scowled at him. "My job." Her enunciation was precise. "Damn it, Jonas, yesterday you looked down your nose at me because you thought I was a desk jockey. Now you're ticked off because I got my hands dirty—"

  "It's not your hands I'm concerned about!"

  "Well, the rest of me is none of your business either!"

  The fact that she was right made him even angrier. The fact that at this moment he desperately wanted her to be his business made him downright furious.

  Heat crept up from under his collar into his cheeks. His fists curled tighter. He didn't want this. Hated that she could do this to him, tie his insides into knots like this. Hated himself even more for the part that wanted to give in to the possibilities...the promises he'd seen in her eyes and felt in the brush of her skin against his.

  The part of him that made him reach for her not because he cared, but to prove he didn't.

  The startled query in her eyes as he hauled her roughly against his chest might have made him reconsider if she hadn't lost her balance and fallen against him. But the wonderfully soft, feminine fullness pressed against him, coupled with the feel of her hands clutching at his shoulders and the scent rising from her, cost him the last vestiges of control.

  He kissed her.

  For an instant—a brief, world-spinning, reality-altering instant—she responded. Her mouth opened to his rough invasion, her tongue tangled with his, her body melted into him, and Jonas tasted both heaven and hell in the same heartbeat. Heaven because he held Kate in his arms; hell because that's where he'd be when she was gone.

  But he barely had time to register the quasi-poetic thought before Earth and reality were simultaneously and unceremoniously restored with a bone-jarring thud. From an ignominious position flat on his back on the sidewalk, Jonas blinked up at the sky.

  "Dude," drawled a teenage boy with a snicker as he shuffled past, hitching up his drooping jeans.

  Kate was nowhere to be seen.

  Jonas's brain kicked back into gear. She'd dumped him. Dumped him on his ass and left him here, and he'd been so consumed by dizzying, never-before-reached heights that he hadn't seen it coming.

  He should have, however, because he'd sure as hell deserved it.

  ***

  How dare he?

  Kate ground her teeth together as she stomped along the sidewalk, swiping at the tears blurring her vision. One spilled over, tracking down her cheek, and she sniffled inelegantly. Fury churned with betrayal in her breast, becoming into a quagmire of emotions she didn't know how to even begin sifting through.

  Damn him to hell and back...how dare he? She'd had her share of kisses over the years, but never one that compared to what had just happened. Never one that carried such anger behind it.

  Or such longing.

  She thrust aside the secondary thought. Whatever it might have morphed into, whatever it might have stirred in Jonas—

  Or in you, the little voice added. She snarled at it in her head and brushed away another tear. It didn't matter what it might have become, only that it had been delivered with such fury. Such—

  Possessiveness? her voice inquired, and something in the pit of her stomach gave a traitorous flutter. Her breath snagged in a throat that had tightened painfully. Damn. Damn Jonas for kissing her like that, and damn her body for responding, and damn, damn, damn.

  Taking a deep breath, Kate paused in the doorway of a building to get her bearings. Nothing looked familiar. She closed her eyes. Great. Now, on top of everything else, she'd managed to get herself lost? She took another steadying breath. Easy does it, Kate. This is Cornwall. It's not big enough to get lost in, remember?

  Besides, she was nowhere near ready to return to Jonas just yet. A walk would do her good. Steeling herself, she stepped back onto the sidewalk, aiming her steps toward the river and the path that ran for miles alongside it. She wondered whether Jonas would be looking for her, or whether he would return to the SUV to wait. Then she wondered whether he and the SUV would even be there when she did return.

  She scrubbed the last of the tears from her face, telling herself she didn't care. Knowing she lied.

  Damn him. Just...

  Damn.

  * * *

  Jonas melted into the shadows, his back hugging the grimy brick wall at the rear of the vacant store where Kate had parked Jennings's SUV. He stood rigid, not daring to breathe. Had the two cops seen him? Seconds ticked by. The low murmur of voices reached him, but he couldn't make out any of the words. No footsteps approached.

  He edged forward and risked a peek around the foul-smelling Dumpster that separated him from the vehicle—and from the police car parked beside it. Cardboard boxes lay strewn across the ground, the remnants of his and Kate's failed attempt to hide their vehicle for a few precious hours.

  One of the cops stood beside the four-by-four, shining a flashlight into the interior. The other sat in the cruiser, talking on the radio. The light from the cruiser's interior dome showed no one in the back seat. They didn't have Kate. Yet.

  Jonas leaned against the wall again. So if they didn't have Kate, where the hell was she? She’d been gone for hours. He'd been sure she'd head straight here—he’d picked himself up and dusted off his butt within a few seconds, then set out after her, but she'd been nowhere to be found. He grimaced. Nowhere that she wanted to be found, he corrected.

  The sound of soft, careful footsteps reached him, not from the direction of the cops in the alley, but from the street behind him. One of their colleagues?

  He drew back to listen, waiting. The stealthy steps drew closer, then paused. Jonas braced himself. Ran through his options if it was another cop. None of them were good. Bloody hell, where was K—

  A head poked around the brick, and the light from a street lamp glinted off blond curls. Swiftly, reflexively, Jonas reached out and snagged Kate, pulling her against him. His other hand covered her mouth, muffling her squeak.

  "It's me," he whispered as her heat wafted up to surround him. Kate stiffened, then nodded. He took his hand away and she stepped back, taking her warmth with her. I'm sorry, he wanted to add. So very, very sorry. But too many words increased their risk of discovery, and apologies would have to wait.

  Silently, hoping she could see him in the shadows, he pointed toward the SUV, then held up two fingers. Kate's form nodded. She jerked her head toward the street, and the two of them picked their way back out to the pavement.

  They walked quickly but in silence, sticking to the side streets where there were fewer cars. Fewer lights. More time for Jonas to absorb Kate's presence beside him and try to shunt aside his relief at her return. Shit, but things were spinning out of control fast. He cleared his throat. Save the panic for later, Burke. First things first.

  "They'll be combing the town for us now they've found the vehicle," he said. "They'll go to Lazarus's bar."

  "Jimmy's cool," Kate replied. "He owes me."

  "So you keep saying. It must be
quite a debt."

  "I was put into place in his bar because he’d been implicated in a smuggling ring. The investigation proved he wasn't involved, and he got to keep his place."

  "The investigation, or your investigation?"

  Kate shrugged one shoulder as they passed beneath a corner street lamp. "I asked the right questions of the right people. That was my job."

  Jonas suspected it had been more than that, but he didn't argue. "Even if he stays quiet about us, someone else at the bar will talk."

  "Probably."

  And their ride across the river wasn't scheduled for another two hours. The cops could talk to a lot of people in that time. Jonas followed Kate's turn onto another side street, matching his stride to hers.

  "This is going to be one hell of a long night," he said.

  She gave a soft snort. "Oh, yeah."

  More walking. Then it was her turn to break the silence.

  "They'll tow the SUV," she said, her voice quiet. Subdued. "And we still need to get to the rendezvous point for our ride. I'm thinking we find a bank machine, then see if we can get a taxi driver who's willing to keep his mouth shut. Does that work for you?"

  "Absent any other options, it works fine. But first..." Jonas reached out and caught hold of her hand, pulling her to a stop and curling his fingers through hers. "First, I owe you an apology, Kate. And then—" He looked down at her. "Then I think we need to talk."

  Chapter 29

  Kate stepped out of the phone booth, careful not to brush against Jonas, who was leaning against the booth's corner. He straightened up and quirked a brow at her.

  "Well? Is he still speaking to you?" he asked.

  "Dave? Yeah, we're speaking."

  "And do you still have a job?"

  Kate lifted a shoulder in a shrug she hoped looked more careless than it felt, but it took all she had to inject a light note into her voice. There wasn't a whole lot in this situation that was even remotely light anymore, least of all that talk with Jonas hanging over her head. Her gaze slid away from the electric blue eyes studying her so intently.

  "To quote my partner, 'My father-in-law is an assistant commissioner, not the bloody Wizard of Oz!'"