by Lydia Burke
Jessie stood looking at him, fire still flickering in her eyes. An uncomfortable silence fell between them that he finally broke with an impatient sigh.
"Oh, what the hell," he said. "I'm sorry for making assumptions, okay? Now will you sit down and eat?"
The thin line of Jessie's mouth softened, and she pulled her lower lip between her teeth. Finally she took her seat in the
space Ben had left on the couch so they could both have access to the pizza.
He popped the tab on her soft drink and held it out to her. "Truce?"
She nodded, gifting him with a momentary glimpse of dark, fa th omless blue before dropping her eyes to the can in his hand. Carefully avoiding his fingers, she reached out and accepted his peace offering.
"Trace," she said quietly.
Ben ate two more slices of the rapidly cooling pizza, but his mind wasn't on what he was putting into his mouth. She'd unsettled him again. This advance and retreat stuff was getting to him.
So she'd been married, That wasn't surprising; she had to be somewhere around thirty. Most people had teen married at least once by that age* Ben himself was an exception at thirty-five, and even he had come close to the altar with Becky in his early twenties. Of course, he was a different man now than he'd been back then.
Uncomfortable with the direction of his thoughts, he concentrated on Jessie nibbling the crust in her hand. She must have been burned in her marriage, but good. That wasn't unusual, he knew. Few people in this day and age had the kind of enduring relationship his parents enjoyed; they were the exception, not the rule. What bothered Ben was that Jessie lumped him into the same category as her ex-husband. She had hit disturbingly close to the mark.
Ben had never thought of his infrequent liaisons with the opposite sex from the woman's point of view. He'd been more concerned with his own rules, to which he'd adhered religiously: he didn't sleep with his female co-workers, he avoided women who made excessive demands on his time, and he was careful to pick ladies who were no more interested in a permanent relationship than he was. He made sure of the latter by keeping his affairs brief.
Even so, he was a monogamous, considerate lover who believed his partner's satisfaction was as important as his own. He didn't have forever to offer a woman, but he could offer good sex, and for the women he'd been with, that was enough. At least, he'd never had any complaints.
He certainly didn't consider women a commodity. But he couldn't deny the time he had spent with women in the past had j been at his convenience, not theirs. He hadn't thought of his I behavior as "picking up and putting down," but now he could see the charge had some merit. For the first time he wondered whether he had ever unwittingly caused a woman pain by his ; actions.
Still, Ben didn't know how he could have managed things differently. A man in his line of work was a poor risk for a woman looking for commitment, and Ben was more devoted to his job than most.
Not that he hadn't ever thought of what it would be like to have a wife. He'd grown up in a solid family unit, and there had been a time when Ben believed that he, too, had a life mate out there somewhere, a woman to share his home and be his partner, living through good and bad times with him. But that expectation had died eleven years ago with Maddie.
If Ben were looking, though, Jessie wasn't a bad prospect. She was unsullied and wholesome. She could pull him into her warmth, maybe blot out for a while the slime of the underworld he prowled on the job. They'd probably fight over who was in charge ninety percent of the time, but he was starting to get the hang of bringing her around. They might even have children. Ben liked kids. And a man could grow comfortably old with someone like Jessie.
But, hell, what was he thinking? That was a pipe dream. As much as Ben might like the idea of a traditional home and family, it was no longer an option for him. His job took all his effort and concentration, and a wife deserved more than the soiled leftovers of the man he'd become. If he ever had anything with Jessie, it would have to be only a short-term, physical involvement.
Of course, there was the little matter of her cooperation, and the past few minutes didn't bode well for his success in gaining it. Ben hadn't given up, though, in spite of what he'd said earlier about never seeing her again. He'd already tasted hei surrender, and he wanted the whole enchilada, at least for a while.
Now, however, wasn't the time to talk about it. Even if they came to an agreement, which wasn't likely in Jessie's current
mood, they'd still have to wait until he was reassigned to his Chicago precinct.
If they did manage to get together then, Ben would have to watch himself with her. She stirred an old softness in him, made him want to hold her when she was upset, to cushion her from the harsh realities threatening her, to keep her safe. He thought he'd set aside those almost-forgotten weaknesses years ago. They dulled a man's edge, made him turn in disgust from what he'd become, made him dream of a future he no longer deserved. For her sake and his, he couldn't give in to those feelings.
Still, Jessie's poor opinion of him rankled. God knows he'd done plenty to be ashamed of. But somehow, something inside Ben wanted her to believe he was a better man than her fool of an ex-husband.
The surprisingly large newsroom of the Sheboygan Sentinel was sparsely populated the morning after Thanksgiving. Kyle Strickland, who came to the front and introduced himself to Jessie the minute he saw her come in, was a tall, gangly young man who hadn't quite outgrown the teenage acne phase. His long blondish hair was caught in a ponytail, and a small cross dangling from a loop in his left ear flashed in the light from his desk lamp every time he moved his head. He had the kind of looks that got better with age and maturity. Jessie thought that in ten years or so the ladies of Sheboygan would have to be on their guard against those bluer-than-blue eyes.
If he'd gotten over his crush on Allie, that is.
By the time Jessie and Ben had taken seats in front of his desk, Kyle had located and handed Jessie a sealed envelope. "I can't believe how much you look like her," he told Jessie, "even though the hair is different, and Allie is more—you know, more—" He broke off, his face turning crimson.
"I know." Jessie smiled at his infatuation. Her sister had that effect on men. "There's something about her, isn't there?"
Ben gave her a peculiar look when she said that, but her mind was on the letter in her hand. She started to open it on the spot, but he stopped her with a touch and a shake of his head. Jessie fingered tiie edges of the envelope restlessly, dying to know what Allie had written.
"Tell us about Allie," Ben said to Kyle.
Kyle immediately looked wary. "For one thing, she didn't tell me to expect Jessie to arrive with a man."
Jessie leaned forward confidentially. "It's all right, Kyle. You can talk freely. Ben's a friend of mine, and he wants to help my sister."
"To help her! Is she in trouble?"
"We don't think so," Ben said, "but we need to find her."
Kyle sized him up, taking his time. "You're a cop, aren't you?"
Jessie quickly glanced over at Ben, who said nothing, but simply watched Kyle impassively.
Kyle nodded knowingly but didn't press the issue. "All right, I'll tell you what I can, but I don't know where Allie is."
"Did she tell you anything about her plans?" Ben asked.
The young photographer shook his head, causing the cross to swing wildly on its hoop. "Nothing specific. Just that she was going away for a while. I tried to find out more—I knew she'd been working independently on a story in Port Man-gus—but she was in too much of a hurry to answer my questions. She met me at a convenience store and asked me to come to the office and hang around until Jessie got here so I could deliver that letter. Then she made a call from the phone booth, got back in her car, and left. That's all I know."
Ben absorbed the information pensively. "This was Wednesday, right?"
"Yeah. I'd guess it was around six-thirty or so in the evening. I'd already eaten."
Jessie gla
nced at Ben. "The call she made must have been to her answering machine."
Ben nodded and she turned back to Kyle. "Did she seem... scared?"
Again Kyle shook his head, this time more thoughtfully. "No. Actually, she seemed excited, like something great was about to happen. Anyway, after she left I came here to wait like she said, but when it got to be midnight and you still hadn't shown up, I had to leave. My folks in South Bend were expecting me to spend Thanksgiving with them." He looked at Jessie apologetically.
"Oh, no, please," Jessie said. "I didn't get Allie's message until yesterday. I'm the one who's sorry you had to wait around for nothing."
"Well, at least we finally connected. Oh, there's one more thing." He turned to Ben. "There was another person in the car—a girl."
"A girl? Who?"
"I didn't recognize her, and Allie didn't introduce us. I didn't even get a good look at her, because she kind of kept her head down. She was blond, maybe in her late teens, early twenties.''
"Any ideas, Jessie?"
"Not a clue," Jessie answered, more mystified than ever. Just then Kyle looked toward the back of the room in alarm. "Uh-oh," he muttered.
His warning came a split second before the deafening "There you are!" behind Jessie's back.
Chapter 6
J essie jerked instinctively, and Ben leapt to his feet, his hand reaching inside his jacket. Before she even realized what had happened, he had taken a protective stance between her and the angry voice.
"Ben." She whispered tersely, rising quickly from her chair and pulling on his arm. He couldn't be thinking of drawing his gun here!
The man who had bellowed emerged from the doorway of a glassed-in office, marked Managing Editor, at the rear of the room. To Jessie's relief, Ben's hand came away empty from the hidden shoulder holster. The muscles of his arm, however, were rigid with tension, and she felt through her fingertips his readiness to spring into action.
"If s the boss," she heard Kyle say under his breath. The covert explanation was hardly necessary; Jessie had already recognized both the voice and the temper from Allie's taped phone messages. The florid-faced man's eyes were focused solely on Jessie as he strode angrily in her direction, pulling on a wrinkled topcoat.
"So you finally decided to show up for work," he said sarcastically. "Too late, as it turns out."
It was plain he had mistaken her for Allie. She spoke up seconds before he reached Kyle's desk, which was located toward the front of the newsroom. "I'm afraid you've—"
"Forget it, Webster." He kept walking, the hostility he projected seeming directed as much at the wool scarf he was stuffing inside his neckline as at Jessie. "I got too much to do to stand around listening to excuses. The accounting department already has your last check made out. You're fired."
By the time he had delivered this startling pronouncement, he had swept past Jessie. "Wait a minute," she protested to his back. "You're making a mistake."
He rounded on her suddenly and snarled. "No, Webster, you're the one who made the mistake. If you had time to get a new hairdo in the past three days, you had time to do your job and that means reporting the stories J give you, got it? My reporters don't go anywhere I don't send 'em, and they don't write anything I don't assign. I warned you. You don't play by my rules, you don't play. Take your stuff with you today when you leave. And then I don't want to see you around here again."
"But-"
"No buts, no nothing*." His stout forefinger stabbed the air in front of him. Defensively Jessie pressed closer to Ben, who put a supportive arm around her. The stubby little editor whirled around and made his way to the door. He opened it with a parting shot at Jessie over his shoulder.
"Make sure you're outta here when I get back." The windows rattled at his exit.
A silent moment greeted his absence, then the whole room seemed to sigh in relief. Uncomfortably, Jessie realized she had become the center of attention. Ben came to her rescue, turning her away from the curious eyes to face Kyle, who stood behind his desk and looked at her sympathetically.
"He gets like that," Kyle said. "Which reminds me, I have something to show you."
He led them to a corner desk in the large room. "This is— was—Allie's desk. Somebody boxed up all of her things between midnight Wednesday and this morning. It was like this when I got in today."
The desk was cleared of everything but a computer and a large cardboard box full of loose papers and miscellaneous items. There was no doubt the contents belonged to Allie, since on top of the pile was the framed twenty-fifth wedding anniversary photo of Allie and Jessie's parents. Jessie had one just like it sitting on her desk at home.
* 'He had her stuff packed up before he even fired her? Boy, he wasn't kidding when he said he wanted her out of here!" she exclaimed. "What did she do to make him so mad?"
"Allie and the boss were always at odds, mostly about what she considered to be fluff assignments. She kept badgering him for more meaty stories. I guess when she didn't come to work for two days, it was the last straw."
"Did be know about her story in Port Mangus?" Ben asked.
"He could have found out, I suppose. It sounded just now as though he thought she was working on something he hadn't assigned."
"Who besides you knew Allie had something going on her own?"
Kyle shrugged. "Nobody as far as I know. Allie talked to me more than anyone else in the office, and even I couldn't get anything out of her about it. She swore me to secrecy, just said she was on to something that would make her in the business. Whatever it was, it kept her busy most evenings doing research."
With an inner smile Jessie wondered what shy Kyle would think of Allie's "research" in a strip joint. He'd probably turn beet red all the way to his hair roots.
"I think you've gotten what you came for, Jess," Ben said, interrupting her thoughts. "Ready to go?"
"I guess so." Ben's tone was brisk, but warmth flooded her when he called her "Jess." She liked the intimacy implied by the shortened name.
"What about Allie's stuff? Should we take it with us?"
Guessing he probably wanted to go through her sister's papers, Jessie replied, "That's a good idea." She turned to Kyle. "I'll make sure that Allie gets it," she said, to forestall any objections.
Kyle shrugged bony shoulders. "Since everybody here thinks you're Allie, it might look a little strange if you left without it."
Ben slid the large box off the desk and into his arms with easy strength. "You've been a big help, Kyle. Just don't talk to anyone about this, or snoop around asking questions that might raise suspicions. Let everybody hare take what just happened at face value. Okay?"
Kyle's brilliant blue eyes sharpened. "I'd sure like to know what's going on."
"The less you know the better, trust me," Ben said.
Kyle walked them to the parking lot, and while Ben stowed AUie's belongings in the trunk of the Trans Am, the younger man pulled out a pad and a pen and jotted something down. He tore off the paper and handed it to Jessie. "Would you let me know when you find her? Or have her call me? Considering what Ben just said, I'm more worried than ever. And now that she's not working here anymore, I, uh, wouldn't want to lose touch."
Jessie folded the paper and placed it in her purse. "Of course," she said. "Thank you for all your trouble, Kyle. I'll be sure to let Allie know what a big help you've been."
Kyle colored, and he glanced down at the ground. "I wish I could do more."
Jessie liked this young man. She hoped some sweet woman more his age would grab his attention before long; there was no way Allie might return his tender feelings. "My sister is lucky to have your friendship," she said.
She couldn't say mote without embarrassing him. Anyway, Ben didn't give her a chance. He added his thanks to Jessie's, and hurried her into the car.
"The boy's in love," Ben remarked as they eased into traffic.
"It seems so, doesn't it?" Jessie's eyes fell on the letter in her hand. Quickly she s
trapped herself in and turned the envelope to the flap side.' "Allie has collected a lot of hearts in her day.''
"No more than you, surely."
She shook her head, tore open the envelope and pulled out a folded sheet of notepaper, her mind only marginally on their conversation. "We may look alike, but inside we couldn't be more different. I don't have Allie's confidence."
It took only seconds to peruse her sister's message.
Jessie-Sorry about Thanksgiving and all this cloak-and-dagger stuff, but it's necessary. Please do exactly what I tell you, sis. You mustn't stay in Port Mangus tonight. You could be in danger. Go back to Oak Park immediately, and I'll call you at home as soon as I can. Don't worry about me. I'm fine. I'll explain everything when I call.
Love, A
Disappointed, Jessie sank back into the seat. Ben had maintained an obliging silence as she read, but now he glanced curiously at the paper she held.
"What does it say?"
"Nothing helpful." She read the note aloud.
"See there?" he said when she'd finished. "Didn't I tell you she could probably take care of herself?"
"Yes, but we still don't know where she is or what she's doing. And what about that girl Kyle said was with her? There are so many unanswered questions." Jessie sighed, refolded the letter and put it into her purse.
"Well, my guess is we'll know soon enough what she's up to," Ben said absently. "Damn. Would you look at all these cars?"
Jessie glanced out the window at the streets of downtown Sheboygan. Christmas decorations hung everywhere, reminding her that this was the first shopping day of the Christmas season. Heavy traffic demanded all Ben's attention.
It was hard to read his mood this morning. Following yesterday's clash of wills, they had both been scrupulously polite. When they talked at all. Jessie hadn't raised any further objections about staying in the cabin. Nor had she squabbled about ordering in another pizza at dinnertime, or taking the bed again instead of the couch.
