Bringing Benjy Home (Security Ops)

by Brant, Kylie

  But it was finished now. He could pack up Jaida and shuttle her off on yet another plane, one that would take her back to Arkansas and away from him. She’d be out of his life for good, and he could forget all about her, forget her liquid drawl, moon-glow hair and the strange reaction he could create just by touching her. He could forget about the woman who’d used his family’s tragedy for her personal gain, so that she could . . . what? What had Jaida hoped to gain by perpetuating this pathetic little hoax? Was she hoping to cash in from her “help” to a desperate family? Or did she just have a sick little side to her that needed to feel important?

  He shook his head impatiently as she approached him again. It didn’t matter to him what motivated Jaida West or others like her. His time for her was at an end, and he was more than ready to see the last of her.

  She walked to the motel room near him and inserted a key in the lock.

  “What are you up to now?” he demanded.

  “The woman in the office said we could look around for a few minutes,” she answered, not looking at him. Her palms suddenly slippery, she pushed the door open and stepped over the threshold. The barrage of sensation that bombarded her as she walked farther into the room wasn’t unexpected. She could feel the confusion and hopelessness thick in the air, and in the recesses of her mind a child cried. Benjy. He’d spent the night sobbing intermittently, crying for the comfort of his mother. She walked around the tiny, slightly seedy room, ignoring the chill creeping over her skin, the familiar pounding starting at her temples. Her gaze went to the window, with its view of the neon sign outside, the one that had fascinated the young child. Again her mind replayed Benjy slipping off the bed, toddling toward the window. Again she saw a hand grasp him by the back of his shirt and haul him back up on the bed. Closing her eyes, she focused fiercely on the fragment of mental replay. A man’s arm, she decided, seeing the large bones and the dark hair on the forearm. A thick gold watchband had encircled the wrist.

  “Jaida.” Trey had followed her, unnoticed, into the room. “Give it up. There’s no point, and you’re only making the situation worse.”

  “He slept over there.” Her voice trembled a bit as she indicated the opposite side of the room, beyond the lone sagging bed. She remained rooted where she was, victim to an intense physical exhaustion. She wrapped her arms around limbs that refused to warm.

  Trey moved over the matted shag carpeting that had long ago given up any pretense of identifiable color. He rounded the unmade bed and stopped short. There on the floor was a drawer, pulled from the cheap dresser on the opposite wall. A pillow taken from the bed lined the bottom.

  A muscle clenched in Trey’s jaw, and for a moment, just for a moment, his heart leaped foolishly. His gaze swung to Jaida, who stood motionless by the window, not even looking in his direction. “How did you . . .”

  Jaida released a sigh and, mobilized by his words, walked toward the door. She didn’t want to wait and hear him finish the sentence. Even someone with his suspicious nature would have to realize that she hadn’t had time to arrange that drawer before he’d followed her in here. She was too weary to provide him with explanations he was incapable of accepting. She needed to get out of this room, out of the swirling dervish of sensations that threatened to choke her with their intensity.

  “Wait a minute,” he commanded. “Where are you going?”

  “To get something to eat.” The incongruous words floated over her shoulder as she walked steadily away from him.

  Trey frowned and then discarded his immediate inclination to detain her. She couldn’t get far, not when he had the car keys. As determined as he was to send her packing, it would be on his terms, when he’d finished with her. She’d been acting oddly all day, but that wasn’t important, either. Right now his mind was grappling with the startling coincidence she’d stumbled on in this room. The room was next door to the one from which the phone call had been made last night to complain of a child’s crying.

  His gaze swung back to the drawer and the pillow inside it. More than likely the room’s previous occupants had used it to bed down a pet they were traveling with. It would make a snug pallet for a medium-sized dog.

  But it would also be the perfect size for an eighteen-month old boy.

  “I’ll have two double cheeseburgers with everything,” Jaida said, snapping her menu shut. “And bring me an order of fries, a Coke and a chocolate shake.”

  The waitress scribbled down the order in her indecipherable shorthand. “Someone going to be joining you, hon?” she asked. The tag pinned to her pink uniform proclaimed her name as Elaine.

  “Not if I’m lucky,” Jaida answered obliquely. She refused to look out the window of the restaurant, to see if Trey had followed her from the motel across the street. She needed time alone to regroup after the emotional turmoil she’d experienced in the motel room. And it was much too soon for her to face Trey’s contempt and mistrust again. First she needed time to shore up defenses that had crumbled badly in the past few minutes.

  “Could I have the shake right away?” she asked the waitress.

  The woman tucked her pad and pencil in the pocket of her apron, which was a snug fit around her ample middle. “Sure thing, hon,” she agreed good-naturedly. “If I was a little bitty thing like you, I’d have myself two.” She winked and headed around the counter.

  The hammering in Jaida’s temples showed no signs of abating, and she opened her purse and took out her pain medication. Swallowing a tablet, she placed the prescription bottle back in her bag just as the graying waitress returned with her shake.

  “Here you go. Hope you enjoy.” Elaine hovered until Jaida sipped from the glass and proclaimed it delicious. Beaming, the waitress said, “Old-fashioned malts and shakes are my specialty. Those young girls that work here,” she snorted and jerked her head in the direction of a teenager who was wiping off the counter. “You just can’t teach them a thing—they don’ want to learn. Whichever way is easiest, that’s the way they want to do things. But you just can’t rush a good shake.”

  Jaida smiled at the woman’s loquaciousness. “Do you own this place?”

  Elaine’s stomach shook with her laughter. “Heavens no dear, but I guess you can say I spend a lot of time running it. Jake, he’s the owner. Doesn’t show up much these days, except to clean out the cash drawer. As long as he doesn’t bother me, we get along just fine.” The woman’s eyes narrowed in concern as Jaida rubbed her temples. “Headache?” she asked sympathetically.

  “I’ve taken something for it. It’ll be gone soon.” Even as she spoke the words, Jaida knew they were overly optimistic. Her limbs still felt heavy with a deep, pervading cold, and her shiver wasn’t in response to the diner’s air-conditioning.

  The waitress clucked knowingly and bustled back to the kitchen to check on Jaida’s order. A short time later she was back, bearing plates of steaming food. “There, now. You eat up. Nothing like a hot meal to chase a headache away.” She watched approvingly as Jaida picked up one of the cheeseburgers and bit into it. Then her gaze went to the door, and her face went still.

  Jaida didn’t need Elaine’s reaction to know who had just walked into the diner. The tingle at the base of her scalp was enough to tell her that Trey had come looking for her. The waitress scurried back behind the counter, and Trey slid his big body into the seat cross from Jaida.

  He nodded toward the assortment of dishes in front of her. “You shouldn’t have ordered for me.”

  “I didn’t,” she informed him shortly. She noted the expression of mild surprise that he allowed to show on his dark features as he watched her polish off the first cheeseburger with delicate efficiency. “I suppose I could spare you a few fries if you’re feeling desperate,” she offered grudgingly.

  “No,” he said in bemusement, “go ahead. I’ll order something for myself.” He turned his head and beckoned to Elaine, who was looking at him fixedly.

  Jaida heaved a sigh. Even the amiable older lady seemed susce
ptible to the man’s magnetism. He gave her his order and then turned his attention back to Jaida.

  “Look,” he said. “About what happened back there . . .”

  “I’d rather not discuss it now,” Jaida told him, reaching for her second cheeseburger. “I just got my appetite back as it is.”

  “Yours or a linebacker’s?” he inquired. She made a face at him and didn’t answer. He watched with a touch of awe as she made short work of the second cheeseburger and started on the French fries. By the time Elaine slid his sandwich in front of him, Jaida was neatly wiping her mouth.

  “Can I get you any dessert, hon?” Elaine asked.

  Trey’s eyes widened as Jaida appeared to actually consider the offer. She finally shook her head.

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  “Wise choice,” Trey commented. “I was beginning to think I was going to have to send you home in the plane’s cargo compartment.”

  She ignored the dig. Her headache hadn’t lessened appreciably, and even satisfying her returned appetite hadn’t succeeded in driving away the chill in her blood. Stoically, she accepted the fact that the effects from the scene in the motel room were not going to be hastened away. “You won’t be buying me another plant ticket, in the cargo compartment or otherwise.”

  Trey leveled a steely look at her. “Yes,” he corrected her grimly, “I will. As soon as possible, as a matter of fact. This charade is over, and we both know it.”

  “The only thing I know,” she said in exasperation, “is that you’re as dense as an Arkansas mule and twice as stubborn. I am your best hope for finding Benjy. Why won’t you accept that?”

  “If you think that little scene in the motel room proved anything, you’re dead wrong,” he answered. He’d spent too many minutes staring down at that damn drawer, logic warring with involuntary, futile hope. He despised himself for having allowed himself to fall victim, even for a short time, to that immediate, desperate will to believe her. “The police found no evidence that Benjy had been there, and neither did we. I have some contacts to make while I’m in Boston, but there’s no reason for you to hang around until I’m finished, especially since we’ll be heading in opposite directions when we fly out of here.”

  Jaida surveyed him impatiently. Never had she met a more obtuse man. “You can fly out—I’m not.”

  He closed his eyes briefly in frustration. “All right, we’ll get you a train ticket. A bus,” he said at her shake of negation. “Woman, what the hell do you want? Is it your fee?” A jeering note entered his voice on the final word. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket. Twenty-four hours ago he would never have believed that he would offer to pay off the link fraud, but right now it seemed well worth it to be rid of her.

  Eyes narrowed dangerously, Jaida wished she’d ordered some of that cream pie Elaine had offered, for the sheer pleasure of shoving it in Trey’s arrogant face. “Keep your money,” she shot back, leaning across the table toward him. “I don’t want it, and I’m growing tired of you. I’m staying, and I’ll continue the search for Benjy by myself. I promised to help your sister, and I’m not going to be deterred by the fact that her brother is a cretin. You can go flying back to California and dabble in your precious proof and evidence. I, on the other hand, am going to bring that sweet nephew of yours home again.”

  “I don’t know what you think you’re going to prove by continuing this damn farce,” he snarled, his face close to hers. “It’s over, Jaida. You lost. He’s not at that damn motel—he never was. So why don’t you just give it up? And you will get on that plane, even if I have to forcibly carry you!”

  With those words he shoved his plate out of the way and rose.

  Elaine found his check and methodically rang it up on the register. “You know,” she told Trey chattily as she leaned over to hand him his change, “you’ve got pretty unusual coloring. That dark hair and those eyes, whooee!” She winked broadly. “I’ll just bet you have to fight women off with a stick.”

  Trey’s voice was dry when he replied, “I usually try to be a bit more subtle than that.”

  She chuckled. “Yep, it’s not too often a gal sees that combination in a male, and I’ve gone and got lucky enough to see it twice in two days.”

  Jaida froze at the woman’s words. She knew what Elaine would say next, and the realization had nothing to do with her abilities. The physical reaction, which had only gotten stronger during her meal, began to make an ominous sense. Her headache picked up in intensity and her vision blurred.

  “Course, the specimen yesterday wasn’t a man,” Elaine went on, tabulating Jaida’s bill. “And I just caught a glimpse of him as his mama carried him out the door. I don’t usually take to kids, but that one, I’m telling you, he was a charmer.” She looked at Trey consideringly, ignoring the stillness of his features. “He even had the same chin you do. Well, they say we all have a twin, and mister, yours is only pint-size.” She shook her head over the coincidence, then waited expectantly, Trey turned then and stared at Jaida. The look he gave her was so contemptuous, so filled with loathing, that she shuddered. Then he spun on his heel and walked out the door.

  Jaida willed herself to action, reaching into her purse and extracting enough money for the bill.

  “Gee, I’m sorry, hon,” Elaine said with a frown. “I don’t know what I said, but he seems real upset.”

  Forcing a smile, Jaida reassured her. “Don’t worry, he’s having . . . a bad day.” She gazed in the direction Trey had disappeared, certain that for her the day was about to get worse.

  Elaine leaned over and put her hand on Jaida’s shoulder. “Well, you just hang in there. That one is worth putting up with a few moods.”

  Jaida started at the woman’s touch, resisting the impulse to jerk away. This woman had been kind to her, a stranger. She picked through the sensations transmitting from the touch, and when Elaine dropped her hand, Jaida smiled wanly at her. “You’ve been very nice,” she said simply. “Thanks for everything. And your bracelet, the one with the blue stones? It’s under the sink in the kitchen. The clasp broke when you were fixing the pipes.” She turned and walked toward the door.

  Elaine looked puzzled and then her mouth made a perfect O. “Well, I’ll be. Now that you mention it, that was the last time I saw the darn thing. In the kitchen here at the diner . . . .”

  She frowned as the door closed behind Jaida. “But how in the heck did she know about that?”

  Chapter 5

  On the small balcony outside his hotel room, Trey stared broodingly at the lights blanketing the city of Boston. Despite the hour, the sounds of horns and sirens still sliced through the night. Most of the city would be asleep, and he wished wearily that he were, too. Jaida had retired hours ago, while it was still daylight.

  Jaida. Just thinking of the woman in the adjoining room had his muscles tensing. The scene following their departure from the diner had not been pleasant. Though she had steadfastly denied it, it was apparent that she’d used her time alone with the waitress to feed her that description of Benjy. There was no other explanation for the woman’s too-casual mention of a child who looked so much like Trey.

  He closed his eyes in pain. The physical similarities that existed between him and Benjy mirrored their deeper emotional bond. A curious fluke of genetics had Benjy resembling his mother’s family completely, with no hint of his father. Benjy would undoubtedly grow up to look like his uncle. Certainly he’d inherited the Garrison chin, which would later become a minor nuisance to shave. But Trey had always hoped the boy would take after his mother in all the ways that counted, with her sweet disposition and sense of wonder about the world. He didn’t remember ever being that young and innocent, and had vowed from the first second he’d laid eyes on his nephew to do everything in his power to ensure Benjy retained that quality. He’d promised himself that he’d protect the boy, the same way he’d tried to protect Lauren when they were kids.

  And he’d failed Benjy as completely as he ha
d his mother almost thirty years ago.

  Trey’s eyes snapped open, and his fists clenched involuntarily. He’d been down that road of guilt often enough in the past, when the nights got too dark, and the solitude too oppressive. He’d been unable to take care of Lauren, but he’d been a boy himself at the time. Now was different; he was different. And nothing on this earth was going to keep him from finding his nephew and bringing him home.

  He rubbed a hand over his face. It had been an incredibly long, frustrating two days, and his mind refused to relax. If he’d had his way he’d be halfway back to L.A. by now. But Jaida had thwarted those plans by her obstinate refusal to return to Arkansas. Maybe it was wounded pride—probably it was something more mercenary—but she’d been steadfast in her determination to continue the search. She hadn’t backed down from his fury, and her temper had reflected his own. He’d finally brought her here and booked her a room, in an effort to avoid a charge of homicide. Justifiable, he added mentally, in light of some of the churlish adjectives she’d hurled at him.

  He’d checked in with Lauren earlier. The disappointment in his sister’s voice had left Trey with the desire to hit something. He’d soothed her as best he could, unwilling to give her any more false hope. Then he’d asked to talk to Mac. It was the memory of that conversation that kept him sitting out on the hotel balcony, too keyed up to sleep.

  There had been no new developments in the investigation on that end, either. Mac had reported on the results of Lauren’s doctor appointment that day. It would still be some time before Lauren would be able to travel.