by Dee Davis
The niggle of worry was blossoming rapidly. He looked down at the sheet of paper. It was an article about the police chief. Something about his retirement. He scanned down the page, stopping when he came to the end. The article listed the man’s living family.
A daughter and two sons.
“The facts fit.” Danny sounded almost apologetic.
John looked up to meet his brother’s troubled gaze. “So did the hospital records. Besides, there’s an obvious fallacy here.” He nodded at the article in his hand. “This man’s daughter is named Kaitlin. Not Kathleen.”
“You know as well as I do that Kaitlin is another version of Kathleen. Besides, there’s more.” He handed over another piece of paper, this one a photograph.
It was bad photography combined with an ink-jet printer, but he could see the woman in the picture, recognize the face.
Katie.
He read the caption underneath, his heart constricting, his stomach churning.
Kaitlin.
“She graduated at the top of her law class. Harvard.
That’s the picture that ran in the Medway paper just afterward. I found it in the archives.” Danny’s tone was grim. “You agree that it’s her?”
“It’s her.” He stared down at the picture, her green eyes mocking him.
“I’m sorry.” Danny’s voice was full of regret.
John dropped the photo, his tortured gaze meeting his brother’s. “What about the personnel records?”
“I did some more digging. The Kathleen Cavanaugh from Medfield doesn’t exist. At least not matching the facts Katie gave you. According to what I could find, the woman lived there, went to college at New Adams, and then for all practical purposes disappeared until she resurfaced a few months ago in the hospital’s personnel records.”
“And Kaitlin?”
“Was at school in New Adams approximately the same time as Kathleen.”
“So she’s pretending to be this other woman?” His heart constricted, the pain more than physical, her betrayal cutting soul deep. “Why?”
Danny took a deep breath, obviously fortifying himself. “Looks like it’s her job. After I found this, and then the personnel records, I checked with some other sources I have, and it looks like Katie Cavanaugh is FBI.” Their eyes locked, Danny’s reflecting his pain. “I really am sorry, John.”
The air rushed out of him on a gasp, as if someone had punched him in the gut, the oxygen in the room suddenly too heavy to breathe. His head felt like it was exploding, the pounding making everything else dim to shadows, edges of black framing his vision. She’d lied. All of it, everything—it was a lie.
Rage fought with anguish as he tried to assimilate his brother’s words. “You’re certain of this?”
Danny nodded, looking as if he wanted to run for the door. “I’m positive. Or at least my source is positive.”
“Who the hell is your source?” He hadn’t meant to yell, but his mouth seemed to have other ideas, his words spilling out into the coffeehouse, almost tangible things. People turned to look, but he didn’t care.
“You don’t want to know. Besides, I promised anonymity. But you can believe it. It’s all in here.” He tapped the file with a finger. “The dying mother, the brothers, father in security. All of it fits. She must have told you more than she meant to.”
He thought of the night when she’d first shared a part of herself. When he believed they’d connected. Kindred spirits in the dark. None of it was real. He’d clung to her as bedrock, something to believe in, to hold on to, and it was all an illusion.
She’d taken him for one hell of a ride.
And now he was left to pay the price.
Katie stood in the doorway to John’s office, absurdly disappointed. She’d expected him to be here. She’d looked everywhere else, his bedroom, the gym, even the offices downstairs. Jason Pollock had assured her he was in the building. But now he was nowhere to be found.
Which alarmed her more than she cared to admit. Common sense told her he was all right. If someone still wanted him dead, they’d had more than ample opportunity. The odds were that his loss of memory had in fact saved his life.
And, despite the cost to him, she was grateful.
Still, there was danger out there. Danger that circumstantial facts were going to be used to try and create a case against him. A case that could lead to his being charged with Miller’s murder. But even that was only a weak possibility at best. Unless something more happened, the facts in evidence simply didn’t add up.
So he should be fine.
But he wasn’t. And she knew it.
John Brighton was the kind of man who needed to control his world. His injury had robbed him of that. Taken away his sense of self. And if she could, she was determined to help him get it back. To prove his innocence. It was the one thing she could do for him.
Not that it would matter in the end. Regardless of what she accomplished, she’d eventually have to tell him who she really was, and once he knew, everything would change, the connection between them disappearing forever.
Forever.
She shook her head, trying to banish her thoughts. What she needed to do was concentrate on the present. The future would catch up to her soon enough. Right now she needed to find John.
“Perhaps if you stand there long enough you can conjure him out of thin air.”
Katie jumped, despite herself, then turned to see Flo’s smiling face. There was something comforting about the woman. Maternal. It had been a long time since someone had smiled at her like that. “I guess maybe that’s what I was hoping. I’ve looked everywhere for him. So this was my last shot. Unless you know where he is?”
Flo walked over to the window, leaning comfortably back against the sill. “I don’t know for sure, but if your face is anything to judge by, I’d say he’s on the roof.”
“I beg your pardon?” Katie sat down on the sofa, her puzzled gaze meeting Flo’s.
Flo’s smile softened. “Ever since he was a little boy, he’s always tried to get as close to the sky as possible. I used to think he’d become a pilot or something. He was always climbing up things. Turns out it’s just his way of escaping.”
“From what?”
“Everything, anything. Whenever he’s troubled about something, he heads for the tallest place around. A tree, a roof, Mount Bonnell. Somewhere where he can rise above it all, I guess. I think that’s part of why he chose to live up here.” She waved a hand at the blue sky out the window.
Katie watched a bird dive past, the sun sparkling off its wing. Maybe there was tranquillity out there. If so, John more than deserved it. “It’s beautiful.”
“But not real. You can’t isolate yourself from life, Katie. There’s so much more to it than floating above it all. Life is about getting messy. Jumping in right up to your eyeballs, and slogging through it like everyone else.”
“And you don’t think John’s doing that?”
“Certainly not before his injury. Things have always come easily to John.”
“But he built Guardian from the ground up.” Katie picked up a pillow, hugging it close, trying to see John the way that Flo did.
“Yes, he did. He put everything into it. But Guardian is just a company. It can’t keep him warm at night, or hold his hand when things are going badly. It can’t even celebrate with him when things are going well.” She crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes dark with concern. “There needs to be more to his life than that.”
“But you said yourself he cares about others. Look at what he did for Miller.”
“He has a wonderful heart, don’t get me wrong. But he’s afraid to risk it.”
“Maybe he has good reason.” The statement was out before Katie had time to think about it, and she knew she sounded defensive, but it was almost as if they were talking about her life instead of John’s.
“I’m sure he thinks he does. And maybe they’re even good reasons. But in protecting himself, he’s mi
ssing out on all that matters most.”
“Even if it hurts?” She met the older woman’s gaze, clutching the pillow tightly.
“Hurting is just God’s way of reminding you that you’re alive. I know it sounds trite, but you honestly can’t experience joy if you’ve never felt pain. It’s the contrast that makes it feel so wonderful.”
Katie swallowed, pushing back the thoughts tumbling around her head, the emotions roiling inside her. Instead she focused on Flo, and the conversation at hand. “But things have changed, surely, since he was shot. I mean, he’s certainly had more than his fair share of pain. And I wouldn’t think that’s something he can hold at arm’s length.”
Flo shrugged. “I’d say the jury’s out on that one. He’s still trying to find his way. And I don’t think he’s decided what he’s going to do. Old patterns are easy to fall into. Especially when the world around you seems to be falling apart.”
“But he’s not closing the world out. He let me in.”
“Yes, he did.” Flo stared out the window for a moment, lost in thought, then turned back to Katie. “And in and of itself that says a lot.”
She wasn’t sure what to say. She wanted to reassure Flo, to tell her that John’s faith was justified. But, at least on one level, it wasn’t. And to say anything else would be hypocritical. So she settled for a version of the truth. “He doesn’t know who I am, Flo.”
“Honey, I was married twenty-two years and, there were still things about me that George didn’t know. That’s part of the attraction.”
“Maybe. But there are secrets that can kill a relationship, too. Things that make everything a lie.” She was talking too much, she knew it, but her emotions were riding the surface now, threatening to break through and reveal themselves. She knew she should stop. But she couldn’t—it was almost as if she needed to talk, to face herself once and for all.
Flo was frowning now. “If there’s love, Katie, real love, then I don’t think anything can kill it. Damage it maybe. Threaten the trust. But not kill it. Love is amazingly resilient. Even in the face of incredible odds.”
“You’re an incurable romantic, you know that?”
“Not really. I just believe in magic. And I believe in love. It’s rare, you know. That soul-rendering connection between a man and a woman. Most people never find it. So when you do, it’s worth taking a few risks to keep it.”
Well, she was taking risks. But not the kind Flo meant. She was dancing on a wire so high and so thin that she doubted she’d be able to survive the fall. And once he found out the truth, well, the fall would be inevitable. Her eyes locked with Flo’s, the older woman’s gaze knowing.
“It’s going to be all right, Katie.”
“You can’t know that.” Katie wanted her to deny it. To tell her that somehow, despite everything, things would work out. But she knew it was impossible.
And then, almost as if she’d read her thoughts, Flo crossed the room to sit beside her, taking both Katie’s hands in hers. “Sometimes it isn’t about knowing, Katie. It’s about believing.”
“So all I have to do is have a little faith?” The question was tainted by sarcasm, and Katie was surprised that she sounded so bitter.
Flo shrugged. “It sounds cliché, I know. But it’s the truth. If you want it to work out, then I believe it will. The connection between the two of you is strong. I’ve seen it.”
Shaking her head, she pulled her hands away. “Some things just aren’t meant to be.”
“Are you telling yourself, or me? I saw you standing there in his office, remember? And I’m not so old that I can’t recognize longing when I see it. I don’t know what you’re hiding from, Katie. John or yourself. But sooner or later you’re going to have to face it. And when you do, I think you’ll find that John is still there, waiting for you.”
If only that were the truth. But Katie knew better.
She was a fake. Illusive on the outside. Hollow on the inside. And no one, not even John, could possibly love her like that.
Which meant that she was, as always, alone.
Only, this time, she found no comfort in the fact.
Chapter 17
The heat was almost a visible thing, shimmering across the rooftops of Austin. John stood near the edge, a retaining wall the only thing separating him from the twilight sky. There was something freeing up here. Something that made the climb up the last set of stairs worth the effort it had cost him.
He had no doubt he’d regret the action tomorrow, but for now, it was worth the price. He needed to be here. To find solace in the wide Texas sky. The capitol shone white in the distance, the buildings of UT providing a hazy backdrop.
He loved Austin. The juxtaposition of cultures. State government and high tech at one end of the spectrum, the university counterculture and the music scene at the other. And then, of course, there were the icons like Eeyore’s Birthday Party and Leslie the cross-dressing mayoral wannabe. Oh yeah, there was something in Austin for everyone. Highbrow, lowbrow, and in between.
Great, he sounded like a fucking chamber of commerce commercial.
He let his gaze fall to the street below, little antlike people scurrying to and fro, each locked into their own patterns. Lives lived without thought or meaning. Everything rote. Every day the same.
He’d become a cynic.
Which wasn’t surprising when he considered all that had happened to him. Most men would have succumbed sooner. But then, most men hadn’t fallen into Katie Cavanaugh’s snare.
He’d always prided himself on letting his brain do the talking and not his penis. But here he was, gob-smacked by a woman who’d not only lied to him, but set out to trap him, using the oldest bait in the book.
And he’d taken it like a fish out of water. He supposed in some psychobabble sort of way, he’d had something to prove to himself. He’d needed to know that a woman could find him attractive. That half of John Brighton was still worth a go.
He’d been so locked in his own need, he’d never seen her coming. He should have known better.
Bitterness welled inside him, the taste of it foul against his tongue. He’d actually believed he loved her. John had never loved anyone outside his family. Never. It was just too big a risk. Way outside his safety zone. So it was ironic as hell that when he’d finally decided to take the leap, it had been for nothing. A con. A game.
His gut tightened, the knot there pressing against his heart, threatening to unman him. He’d never hurt like this before. Not even after the shooting. Katie had taken something from him he hadn’t meant to give, and couldn’t possibly take back. And he’d given it for nothing.
Ironic was an understatement.
He was a fool.
“Flo thought you might be up here.”
The lilting sound of her voice bit into him like a sniper’s bullet, cutting deep, perversely filling him with hope. Maybe Danny was wrong. God, he wished it so. But his mind, the part that was still working, knew that it was fact. The photograph alone was irrefutable.
No matter how much his heart wanted to believe, he knew better. She was a liar—a sweet one, but still a liar.
He turned to face her, keeping his expression casual. Time enough to share the thoughts spinning around in his head. First, he needed to confirm things once and for all. Needed to hear it from her own lips.
“I come up here to think.” He forced a smile, his traitorous eyes devouring the soft curves of her face. Whatever else she was, she was a beautiful woman.
“I’m surprised you could manage the stairs.” Her voice held nothing but concern. If he hadn’t known better, he’d have sworn she was really worried about him.
“I’m not a cripple.” Despite his resolve, his words were harsh. “It was slow going, but I did it.”
“I guess if something is important enough, one can manage almost anything.”
“And what’s important to you, Katie?” His gaze collided with hers, her green eyes narrowed in confusion.
&n
bsp; “I don’t understand what you’re asking me.” She took a step toward him, and involuntarily he moved back.
“It’s not a hard question. What matters most to you?” He leaned back against the wall, the hot breeze caressing his face.
“Until recently I would have said it was my job.”
“And now?” He held his breath, waiting.
“And now, I don’t know. Some of what I thought was important isn’t anymore. I can’t really explain it. It’s like the things I believed in have been turned inside out. What’s black is white and vice versa.”
“Because of me.” He narrowed his eyes, watching her, wondering if there was any truth at all in what she was saying.
“Yes.” The single word hung between them, and he moved forward, lifting her chin with his good hand, searching her face for some hint of truth.
He dipped his head, pressing his lips to hers, the touch fleeting, then dropped his hand and stepped away, his gaze still locked with hers. “Everything isn’t always what it seems, Katie.”
“Isn’t it?” She frowned at him, her beautiful face haunted with something he couldn’t quite put a name to. It was almost as if they were preparing to spar, each waiting for the other to make the first move. Neither willing to start the battle.
So perhaps it was time.
“How was your meeting at the hospital?” He moved back to lean against the wall again, waiting to see what she’d say. Everything was riding on whether she would tell him the truth. And even though he already knew that she wouldn’t, some part of him prayed that she would. That she’d tell him everything.
She paused before answering, her gaze dropping to her feet. “It was fine. Routine, actually.”
And there it was, carved in stone. The truth. She’d lied to him as easily as she’d drawn a breath. The door had been opened and there was no going back. “That’s interesting. I called the hospital, and at least according to the woman in physical therapy, there wasn’t a meeting scheduled.”
