by Cathie Linz
“You’re sure she hasn’t contacted Stalotti in Naples? He hasn’t signed on the dotted line yet for us to do the work for his new Chicago office.”
“I checked her cell phone yesterday. The only calls have been to her cousin in Chicago.”
“What about her father? Hasn’t she called him?”
“No. Not before today.”
“That seems strange,” Vince, ever the paranoid, said. “Why wouldn’t she call her father more frequently than that?”
“Do you have any proof that West even knows about Stalotti?”
“I don’t need proof. I trust my gut on these things. Stalotti’s headquarters are in Naples. He has a summer house in Positano. What’s the West daughter doing now?”
“Shopping.” Caine had followed her from the hotel to the heart of Positano, where he’d watched her buy a water-color painting of the harbor area from one of the many artists displaying their work along the bougainvillea-covered lane there.
“So you’re willing to bet your job that she’s no threat?”
“Affirmative. She’s a children’s librarian.”
“A great cover. Who’s going to suspect the librarian? No one except me.”
“You suspect everyone,” Caine said.
“That’s what’s made me the man I am today: Chicago’s leading investigator. The story was in the Chicago Tribune today, page two. West’s days as top dog in this business are numbered.”
“Hmmm.” Caine wasn’t really paying attention. Faith had wandered into a shop that sold clothes, and she hadn’t come out yet. But a woman with a big hat and giant sunglasses was strolling out. She wasn’t wearing any of the clothes Faith had worn earlier, but something about the way she walked, the sway of her hips . . .
His gaze went down her tanned legs to her shoes. She was wearing the same sandals Faith had worn this morning. She’d had them handmade three days ago by a wizened guy in a skinny storefront barely wide enough to stand in. She’d picked the blue fake gems that dotted the tops because they were the color of the water here.
“Gotta go,” Caine told Vince before following the woman as she made her way up the street.
“Nice try,” he muttered under his breath.
He saw her go into another tiny boutique. “Two can play that game, Sunshine.” He tugged a baseball cap out of his back pocket and bought a sleeveless T-shirt from a vendor’s outdoor stand next door, all the while keeping an eagle eye on the boutique. By the time Faith came out ten minutes later, wearing the same bogus huge hat, sunglasses and telltale sandals, he had changed his appearance and his posture.
He saw her nervously glance over her shoulder and look right past him. Damn, he was good. The surveillance techniques he’d learned in the Marine Corps served him well in his current position.
She ducked into another store. This time she came out with a backpack and two bags filled with her purchases.
Another store, another bag and an escort. An elderly couple, the man on the left, the woman on the right, bracketed her like bookends. As the street narrowed and the crowd grew, they stood behind Faith to let her go ahead.
Caine kept track of her hat, which he could see above the crowd. Thank God Faith was tall. She wove in and out of the throng of tourists filling the area, turning it into a pedestrian traffic jam.
Shit, he’d lost her.
No wait, there she was. On the move again. Fine by him. He wasn’t about to let her go.
Jeff West stared at the phone in his home office. It wasn’t quite eight in the morning here in Chicago, but he couldn’t wait any longer. Faith had called at midnight last night and told him about Caine.
Vince had gone too far this time. Jeff had to do something about that. He couldn’t let that bastard get away with it.
Jeff had already put one of his best agents to work overnight digging up information on Vince. And he’d set his best computer geek to hacking into Vince’s e-mail files. Illegal, certainly, but necessary. It’s not as if Vince hadn’t done the same to Jeff, which is why he was constantly updating his firewalls and security systems.
Jeff picked up the phone and dialed. Vince answered as Jeff had known he would.
“I know why you’re calling,” Vince preempted him by saying. “You saw the article in the Trib describing me as Chicago’s leading investigator.”
“You’re Chicago’s leading bastard! How dare you send one of your thugs to trail my daughter on her vacation to Italy.”
“What’s wrong, West? Afraid of what I’ll find?”
“Going after me is one thing, but going after my family . . . That’s low, even for you.”
“You taught me everything I know,” Vince said.
“You know nothing.”
“I know more than you think.”
“If I find out you had a hand in my daughter being left at the altar—”
“Save your empty threats. I didn’t have anything to do with that mess. You and your daughter created that debacle all by yourselves.”
“Why go after Faith in Italy? Might it have something to do with a potential new Italian client of yours?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do. The ironic thing is that I had no idea about Stalotti and wouldn’t have, if you hadn’t tipped your hand by spying on Faith. My daughter is innocent. But your operative isn’t. Caine Hunter has a grudge against me.”
“So do plenty of other people.”
“Well, my daughter was smart enough to know that Caine wasn’t some regular tourist.”
“Really? She sure spent enough time with him. He swept her off her feet. Just like I told him to.”
Jeff saw red. He swore vehemently. “If you thought we had a rivalry before, that was child’s play compared to what you’re in for now. This is war.”
“Oh yeah?” Vince said. “Go ahead. Bring it on.”
“I thought you said West’s daughter was no threat to me,” Vince bellowed over the phone to Caine. “I should fire your sorry ass right now! She made you, didn’t she? Don’t bother denying it. Why didn’t you tell me? Then I would have been better prepared for Jeff West’s call. He knows about Stalotti. He claims he didn’t know until he tried to figure out why I was having Faith watched, but I don’t believe him. Do not let that woman out of your sight. She’s due back here in Chicago tomorrow, or I’d send someone else. How did she find out who you are?”
“Does it matter?”
“If you weren’t so damn good, and if having you on my payroll didn’t drive West nuts . . .”
Caine ignored the unspoken threat. Working for King Investigations gave him access to information about Jeff West that would be harder to get otherwise. Harder but not impossible. As a former Marine, Caine knew how to filter out distractions in order to focus on succeeding in the mission. “I made a mistake. It won’t happen again.”
“It better not. Hell, it wasn’t that difficult an assignment, Caine. Especially for a man with your credentials. Don’t screw up again.”
“I won’t.”
Faith was so proud of herself. She’d outsmarted Caine. The adrenaline high brought with it a sense of accomplishment that she hadn’t felt for a long time. “You rock!” she told herself.
Her cell phone rang. “Vince King just admitted that he sent Caine there to sweep you off your feet, was the way he put it.” Her father’s voice vibrated with lingering anger.
Even though she’d suspected as much, hearing it confirmed still hit her hard. Talk about a buzz kill. “You talked to Vince?”
“Damn right I did. No one messes with my family. I’m taking that bastard down. What about you? Will you be okay?
“Don’t worry about me,” Faith said. “I’ve got everything under control.” In one week, Faith had gone through two rotten, life-changing experiences that had turned her into a different person—a stronger, tougher person on a new life path.
She stared down at her brand-new Italian leather spectator pumps. She�
��d just beaten Caine at his own game. He was still trailing the woman wearing her sandals and clothes, including the big sun hat. The salesclerk had been glad to help out by pretending to be her. Faith had also enlisted the help of an elderly couple to throw Caine off. She’d paid them all well.
Meanwhile, Faith was currently in the backseat of a sleek black Mercedes sedan whisking her back to Naples, where she planned on getting a flight home this afternoon. Sure, she’d had to pay more to leave her rental car in Positano, but it was worth it.
It felt so good to beat Caine at his own game. Better than good. It felt damn great. Utilizing the tricks of dumping a tail reminded Faith of her PI training. The thrill of successfully evading him brought with it a surprisingly strong feeling of satisfaction along with a newfound sense of confidence.
All of which left Faith knowing what she had to do next.
Chapter Four
“I quit,” Faith told her boss, Maria Sanchez.
Maria wasn’t someone easily startled. As the branch manager of the River North branch of the Chicago Public Library, she couldn’t afford to get rattled. When the library’s women’s bathroom toilet backed up last month, Maria was Ms. Calm. When eighty-nine-year-old geezer Oscar O’Hara flashed Maria in the nonfiction section of the library, she merely said, “Put that away.”
And so Maria was currently bestowing the same look of tranquillity upon Faith. You’d think that having five kids would make Maria a little more stressed-out, but no . . . quite the opposite. Nothing surprised her. “I realize you’ve been through a rough patch,” Maria said in that soothing voice of hers. “This is no time to be making major life changes.”
“It’s the perfect time to make major life changes.”
Maria frowned. She wasn’t accustomed to being contradicted. Her composed exterior showed the first tiny signs of cracking as a flush rose beneath her flawless olive skin and the feathery lines around her eyes deepened. “But you’re so good at your job. You’re a great children’s librarian.”
“No, I’m not. I don’t even like Charlotte’s Web.”
Now Maria did look surprised. “You don’t?”
Faith shook her head. “I’ve always hated it. I’m not a fan of spiders.”
“Even so, that’s no reason to quit. Give yourself some time to think things over. Don’t make the decision now. You’re still jet-lagged.”
“No, I need to move on. I’m sorry it’s such short notice, but I can’t stay. It’s a new day, and I need to make a new start.”
“If this is about your salary—”
“It’s not. Trust me, it’s not.”
“Then I don’t understand.”
Now Faith was the calm one. “I don’t expect you to.”
“I thought you enjoyed working here.”
“I did. But it’s time for me to move on. Today. Right now. I’m sorry.” She placed her official letter of resignation on Maria’s desk before turning and heading down the hallway for her own cubicle. She grabbed an empty cardboard box along the way and started quickly packing up her things—her Jane Austen action figure and her What Would Jane Do? coffee mug. Her Fancy Nancy tiara and glitter sunglasses. Her personal collection of favorite children’s books including Scaredy Squirrel and the classic Harold and the Purple Crayon. Her poster of the cover of Little Polar Bear by Hans de Beer. The READ poster of Jeffrey Dean Morgan she bought at the ALA store. Her props for story time. So much jumbled together. She was thinking in fragmented sentences, but her decision remained firm. She had to leave.
Faith walked out of the library without looking back, clutching the box to her chest while two tote bags filled with the rest of her stuff hung from her arms. This condition made flagging a cab more of a challenge than usual during lunch rush, but she managed.
During the ride from the library to her Streeterville condo, she turned to her iPod and played Madonna’s “Jump” repeatedly. Faith was ready to jump—to jump from the life she’d known before to a new one. She was ready, willing and able.
Able . . . which got her thinking of Cain and Abel. Caine . . .
No, that thought pattern had to stop immediately. To help herself along with that goal, Faith touched the screen of her iPod, skipping ahead to “I Hate Everything About You” by Three Days Grace, her most recent musical download.
She didn’t realize she was mouthing the lyrics “I hate, you hate” until she caught the nervous look the cabbie gave her in the rearview mirror.
She felt the need to apologize. “Sorry. I was just singing along with a song . . . never mind.” Removing the buds from her ears, she safely stowed her iPod away. If only she could stow away her thoughts of Caine as efficiently.
“I quit my job at the library today,” Faith told her father as she sat in his corner office with a great view of the Picasso statue in Daley Plaza. “I’m taking you up on your standing offer to come work here.” She was pleased with how confident and forceful that came out.
Her father jumped up and came around his desk to hug her. “Hey, that’s great! You know I’ve always wanted you to join the family business.” He beamed at her. “You’re the best researcher we’ve ever had. No one does background checks as thoroughly and efficiently as you.” He headed back to the Aeron ergonomically designed chair behind his desk, the one she’d picked out for him his last birthday, and turned his attention to a file on his desk. “Go see my assistant, Gloria, and she’ll set you up.”
“Thanks, but I don’t want to just sit in front of a computer all day. I want to work real cases. In the field.”
“Sure. Eventually you can work up to that.” He transferred his attention from the file to her. “Hey, have you done something to your hair?”
“Yes.” Her boring hair of the past was a distant memory now. She still loved the new look, the way her hair moved when she did, swinging against her neck. The multilayered, sophisticated style continued to be a huge confidence boost. “I used to be a mousy brunette, and now I’m a tough blonde. But don’t change the subject. Are we agreed?”
“On what? That you’re a tough blonde?”
“No, that I get assigned to a real case by the end of next week.” She made a note of the date on her BlackBerry. “I’ve got my PI license, and it’s still valid.”
“I know.”
It was just now occurring to Faith that the last time her BlackBerry and her father were in the same room together had been on her wedding day.
“Have you heard from Alan?”
She blinked. “No. Why? What have you heard?”
“About Alan, nothing. But I’ve heard plenty about Caine. What happened over there in Italy? You still haven’t told me.”
“Caine tried to tail me, but I successfully evaded him. Why does he think that his father is innocent? Does he have any grounds for such an assumption?”
“Of course not.”
“That’s what I told him.”
“You talked to him about the case?”
“Only briefly. He was making accusations, and I was defending you.”
“That’s my girl.” He flashed her a smile.
“He seems very determined about clearing his dad’s name.”
“He doesn’t have a leg to stand on.”
“Did you review the case?”
“I didn’t have to.”
Her father sounded a bit defensive, which was unusual for him. The confidence was still there, as it always was. But there was a new underlying tension she hadn’t picked up on before.
“Don’t bother your pretty head about this,” he continued. “You stay focused on your new job here in the family business.”
“This is what the library was paying me.” She wrote an amount on a piece of paper. “I’d need to make at least that much here.”
Her father just smiled. “Honey, you’d make nearly twice that much here.”
“Really?” she squeaked.
“Really.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “Because I’m your daugh
ter?”
“Because that’s what we pay our top talented investigators. I told you that you should have left that job a long time ago.”
The door opened, and her Uncle Dave entered the office. He was taller than her father by two inches and younger by two years. He was in charge of the accounting side of the business, a role that suited his mathematician self-proclaimed nerdy side. A fan of Thurber’s short stories, he readily admitted that he was often in his own world. His love for mathematics explained his quirky tie filled with rows of gold and silver pi symbols on a red background. He had another tie with the same design on a blue background. They were the only two ties he owned.
“Oh, sorry to interrupt,” he said.
Faith jumped up and gave her uncle a hug. She hadn’t seen him at the wedding, although she knew he’d been there. She also knew he liked to keep a low profile and avoided drama whenever possible.
“Faith is joining the company,” Jeff said proudly. “She finally saw the light and dumped that go-nowhere librarian job of hers.”
Her father never had been thrilled with her chosen profession.
“Now you just need to get Megan to do the same thing,” Jeff told his brother.
“Megan loves her job.” He looked at Faith. “I thought you loved your job too.”
“I needed a change,” Faith said.
“I can see that.” Dave frowned. “You’ve changed.”
Faith touched her hair. “Yes, I’m blonde now. Hair color and highlights can do amazing things.”
Dave slowly shook his head. “That’s not all.”
“You’re right. The stylist cut my hair as well.”
“No, that’s not what I meant. It’s not just your change in appearance. It’s your change in attitude. The way you’re sitting in that chair with confidence.”
Instead of sitting in the anteroom of the Gold Coast church shredding her lace handkerchief. Not that her uncle had seen her in that sorry state.
