by Susan Crosby
The investigators exchanged glances. Nate said, “Your chances—”
“I want my money back.”
“Jamey,” Nate said. “Lyndsey and I are going back to Sam and Dana’s. Give us a call when you decide what you want to do.”
Within a minute everyone was gone except James, Caryn and Kevin.
“They are not going to get away with this,” Caryn said, her voice shaking. “They’re not.”
Kevin was being extraordinarily quiet. James wondered what he was thinking.
“I’ll fix us some lunch if you show me where the stuff is,” Kevin said to James.
Surprised, James looked at him. As if Kevin didn’t know what was in the refrigerator and where he kept the bread and chips? Then Kevin intensified his stare and angled his head ever so slightly toward the kitchen. James followed him.
“We’ll be back in a minute,” he said to Caryn as he passed her, touching her briefly on the shoulders and finding her as yielding as concrete.
In the kitchen Kevin shoved his hands through his hair. “Look, man, maybe this is nothin’.” He paced a bit, looked back toward the living room, and lowered his voice. “Johnson is a common name.”
“Yeah.” James ducked his head to hear the boy. “So?”
“So those notes are all signed Johnson. Venus’s last name is Johnson.”
James frowned. “You can’t think she could have anything to do with this?”
Kevin’s gaze might have turned James into petrified human. “After I told her you were a P.I. she got, you know, chummier with me, was all nervous. Asked more questions. I know it seems crazy, but I keep hearing about how people should trust their instincts. My instincts say there’s a connection.”
James sorted the idea with what he knew of the girl. She’d been hired shortly after Caryn, had no waitressing experience, had never gotten good at her job, had made friends right away with Caryn and Kevin, although keeping her distance from the boy—until she found out that Caryn’s friend was a P.I. Plus she’d turned the heat up on Kevin.
“You could be on to something,” James said.
“I know Mom wants the money back. I want that, too—it’s a lot—but I want the men who killed my father more.”
“That’s not a given—that he was killed. Let’s take it one step at a time.” James needed to see the site where Paul died, talk to the CHP officer who wrote the report. “Who do you think is following us—or me, or whichever of us they’re following?”
“Someone who doesn’t want us to find out the truth.”
“What’s the next step?” James asked.
Kevin thought it over. “Talk to Venus.”
“Right. Let’s go tell your mom what’s going on.” James started to leave.
Kevin grabbed his arm, stopping him, then looked him in the eye. “You know we’re not a family.”
“Who?”
“My mom, me and you.”
James couldn’t find words to reply. He wasn’t sure what Kevin was saying, nor was he sure he wanted to know.
“This is too weird, you know, man? I mean, like, I could never introduce you to my friends. People would figure it out by lookin’ at us.”
“Why are you bringing this up?”
“’Cause my mom and you.” A flush spread across his face. “You like each other. Do us a favor, okay? When this is over, just go away. I don’t want her hurt ever again.”
And stay away from you, too? he wanted to ask.
But this was not the time for debates or promises. “We’ll worry about all that later,” James said. “For now, why don’t you give Venus a call and see if she can meet you for lunch, someplace public so I can see if she’s being followed or if we are. Someplace no one will have staked out.” His mother’s house, James decided, where he could leave Kevin, if he had to, knowing he was taken care of. Kevin wouldn’t defy Emmaline. “Do you want to be the one to tell your mom what you figured out?” James asked Kevin.
“Can I?”
“It’s your discovery.”
Kevin grinned. James wanted to wrap his arm around him and pull him close. What a warrior he had turned out to be. He would lay down his life for his mother, that was certain.
And James was an unwanted outsider to him. That was certain, too.
Caryn didn’t know who she was more nervous about seeing—Venus or James’s mother, Emmaline. If what Kevin and James thought about Venus was true, Caryn had just been dealt another blow, been victim of another deception. That was hard to take.
As for Emmaline, Kevin adored her already. But why shouldn’t he? He’d never known Paul’s mother, who had died before Kevin was born, and Caryn’s mother moved to Arizona a few years ago and rarely saw them. Emmaline was his grandmother, even if in a roundabout way, and she lived in town, and apparently she was a great cook and advice-giver. Caryn would be jealous—if she didn’t want it all so much for Kevin.
He had picked up Venus and driven her to a nearby restaurant. When no one appeared to be following any of them, they piled into one car and drove to Emmaline’s, Venus asking questions, no one giving any but the vaguest of answers—until they were safely inside the house.
Emmaline hugged Caryn, but out of deference to Venus’s presence, no one talked about the relationship. Emmaline went into the kitchen under the guise of preparing a snack, but merely leaving them alone.
Venus’s normally rosy-cheeked innocence seemed suddenly faded and guilty. She twisted her fingers together, tried to smile, looked from face-to-face.
“We know about your father,” Kevin said.
Caryn felt James react to the statement. She gathered it wasn’t the interrogation route he would’ve taken, but he didn’t interrupt, either.
“You know what about my father?”
Kevin leaned toward her. “Do you think I’m stupid? A girl like you isn’t interested in a guy like me. You wanted something. It just took me a little while to figure out.”
“I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about. What would I want?”
Kevin didn’t answer. He had apparently backed himself in a corner. He looked at James.
“You were sent to spy on Caryn and Kevin,” James said.
“Why would I do that?” Her chin went up, her blond curls bounced.
“Because someone needed to keep an eye on them. To see what they were up to.”
“Because my father was murdered,” Kevin said.
Venus spun toward Kevin. “No!”
“And it was your father who did it,” he added.
Color leeched from her face. “My father died ten years ago. And that’s the truth.”
Silence crash-landed in the room. They were wrong. How could they be wrong? Caryn thought.
“May I speak to you alone?” Venus asked James.
Caryn bristled. She’d trusted this young woman, had enjoyed her company, had taken her in, treated her almost like a daughter. “What you have to say, you say to all of us.”
Venus looked at each of them individually, then at the floor. Finally she pushed her hair back from her face. “It’s my brother you want. I…I don’t know what his business is exactly—” she glared at Kevin “—but it isn’t murder.”
“He was the one who sent you to keep an eye on Caryn and Kevin,” James said.
After a few seconds she nodded.
“He lined up the job at GGC.”
“Yes.”
“Why did you do it?”
Her eyes filled with tears. She looked away, her hands clenched in her lap, her back stiff. “He was holding something over me. I’m not telling you what. It wasn’t criminal or anything, just family stuff. He said if I did this for him, he would let me off the hook.”
“We trusted you,” Caryn said.
“I know. I’m so sorry.” She almost pleaded with her eyes.
“Okay, I’ve had enough of this. What’s next?” Caryn asked James. Tired of everything happening around her, she was ready to take action.
Plans were made. For now, everyone would go about their lives as before, especially since no one seemed to be under surveillance anymore.
But in a couple of hours James would fly to L.A. with Nate and Sam to investigate Paul’s death and determine the cause, armed with the knowledge the CHP didn’t have at the time, that there was a possibility Paul was murdered. James shared Paul’s note with Nate and Sam, indicating the possibility that he could have been running away, too.
Kevin was furious at James at being left behind. James understood his anger but didn’t back down. Kevin made his case, arguing that they wouldn’t have figured out what they had so far without him putting two and two together. He may be right, but it didn’t change James’s mind about how the investigation needed to be handled.
Kevin stayed with Emmaline, although James considered Kevin’s reason might be more to irritate James than to promote his relationship with Emmaline. Kevin seemed aware that James envied their bond. He didn’t care about the reason. He only wanted the boy safe.
James drove Caryn home and followed her up her stairs, carrying the sacks she’d brought to his house. His gaze on her hips, he remembered how beautiful she was last night, stretched out naked on his bed, flames from the fire like a flickering golden spotlight on her pale skin. She wore a green skirt and white button-up blouse, and her comfortable shoes. He knew her bra was white and lacy. Every so often he would see hints of lace if she leaned a certain way. He remembered a moment from last night where she’d stretched like a cat in a flood of sunshine. How graceful she was. How incredibly sexy. Any hesitation had been tossed away with the towel last night. She’d been open and provocative and demanding, especially in the morning when she’d awakened him with exploring fingers and increasingly hot kisses.
And Kevin wanted him to give her up.
“House is cold,” she said, stopping in front of the thermostat and adjusting it.
Kevin wants me to give you up.
He couldn’t tell her that. Couldn’t even hint at it.
“Do you have to leave right away?” she asked.
“Yeah.” He set down her sacks and watched her keep herself busy by straightening pillows that didn’t need straightening, and stacking magazines that were barely out of alignment. “Caryn?”
“Hmm?”
He identified her mood. She was trying to seem as if she was okay with everything, when everything had suddenly changed. She’d already been through enough in the past year, but maybe he would give her some answers about Paul, get her money back and help her get started on her new life again.
“I’m going to do everything I possibly can for you,” he said.
Kevin wants me to give you up….
“Are you?”
Hold on. What’s this? He examined her face. She wasn’t trying to come to terms with the newest events. She was ticked off.
“Of course I am,” he said.
“I want to go with you,” she said, crossing her arms.
“No.”
“Yes. It’s my life, my problems. I need to be part of the solution.”
“This trip is only to talk to the CHP. I’m not doing anything else yet. Johnson is not going anywhere. There’s no reason to rush. And I can’t do my job well if I have to worry about you, too.”
“You’re just like him. Like Paul. You take all these stupid risks.”
He didn’t like being compared to Paul, who, in James’s eyes, was weak. He hadn’t taken care of his family. “I take calculated risks,” he said coolly.
“You have scars! I saw then. Touched them.”
“I’m alive.”
She made a sound of frustration, as if she couldn’t get her point across, then she went up on tiptoe and kissed him. He resisted for a second, maybe two before pulling her close and devouring her mouth, taking everything she gave, giving back even more.
“I’m afraid you’re going to get hurt,” she whispered. “I’m so afraid. Then who will…Kevin have?”
He heard her hesitation but ignored it. He couldn’t encourage her, either, not with Kevin’s demand weighing on him. Maybe Paul hadn’t done his job, but James would. He would make sure his son—yes, his son—would have his answers and his future secure.
“I have to go,” he said, holding her arms and moving her back.
“Already?”
He had a little time, but he didn’t think it would make a difference. There was only so much that could be said.
She put her hands on his face. “Make love with me again. Please.”
Unpredictable. She’d gone from being angry to—
She began unbuttoning his shirt. “Don’t leave yet.”
“I don’t have much time.”
“I don’t think it’s going to take long, Jamey.”
Jamey. It was the first time she’d called him that. He swooped down, tipping her head back, kissing her like it was the last time, which it may be for them—if Kevin got his way. James didn’t want to think about that. He just wanted to feel…her, every curve, every plane, every soft and hard place on her body. He wanted to kiss her until he couldn’t breathe, hold her until his arms shook, love her until she screamed.
He stripped her where they stood, finding the white lacy bra and panties he’d known he would find, then removing them, neither gently nor slowly. He peeled off his own clothes, lifted her so that her legs straddled his hips and then carried her to her bedroom.
Feminine, just like her, he thought, aware of the room. A cream-colored bedspread and pillows with lacy edges. He dropped her in the middle of the bed and came down on her, merging mouths that were on fire with need and expectation. He stayed there attacking her mouth until she breathed as though she’d run a marathon. He moved down her body, drew one hard nipple into his mouth, then the other. His tongue swirled and teased. His lips measured and pulled. His teeth scraped. He filled his hands with the soft flesh surrounding the hard peaks.
After a while he pushed himself lower; she lifted her hips higher. He tasted her, cherished her, then slowed down, gentled his actions, taking his time. Her hands pushed against his head; she grasped his hair. She rocked, arched. Enjoyed. He lunged over her, plunged into her, felt her hot, tight welcome. Was surrounded by it. Didn’t want to give it up. But his body had other ideas, other needs.
She pulled his head down for a kiss, openmouthed, demanding, without tenderness, with unchecked passion. Without caution, with urgency. They hit the pinnacle together, and there was something in the mutuality that shot him higher, made it last longer.
He kissed her, a long, lingering kiss meant to soften the impact. She looked as serious as she had before they’d fallen into bed.
“Do you promise you won’t do anything yet?”
No, he couldn’t promise. Things could happen. He didn’t know, couldn’t predict for sure. “I can’t promise, Caryn. I’ve told you what the plan is. And you can’t take time off from work, anyway. You’ve already told me you could lose your job if you don’t show up.”
“Do you know how many restaurants are in this city? Three thousand. Think I can’t get another job?”
“One as good?”
“One better.” She shifted.
“I understand Kevin being mad at me, but not you. You should be seeing the big picture.”
She sighed. “I can call you?”
“As often as you like.”
“Don’t be mad,” she said with a smile.
“I’m not mad.” He wanted to tell her how beautiful she was, but it would only complicate things when they returned and he had to let her go.
As if just having sex with her wouldn’t complicate—
He hadn’t used birth control. None. Hadn’t even considered it. Neither had she said anything. What were they thinking? They could not, at their ages, find themselves pregnant. Kevin already couldn’t deal with explaining James. What about if they had a baby together?
Well, there was nothing he could do about it now. He had to wait, like a te
enager after prom night had gotten out of hand.
Except…why did the idea make him start imagining a family again, but this time, people with faces he could put to them. And personalities.
The image took root, and held. He kissed her goodbye but didn’t linger. Fate would do what it would do.
Sixteen
“I owe you for this,” James said to Nate and Sam as they waited in an interview room for the highway patrol officer who’d investigated Paul’s accident. “You’ve got other jobs to do.” Hell, they were two of the owners of the ARC. Partners. He was just an investigator on staff.
“First,” Sam said, “we look after our own. Second, it’s kind of entertaining watching you fall head over heels.” He glanced at Nate. “We’ve both been there and done that. I don’t know about Nate, but I didn’t realize how stupid I got while I was falling in love with Dana. You need someone at your back, because you won’t be thinking straight.”
Nate laughed quietly. “Amen, brother.”
James might have opened up and talked about his concerns to Cassie, but these were the power guys. He couldn’t tell them how tenuous his relationship with Caryn was, or the reason behind it. They would…scoff? Advise him to just do what he wanted to do, that Kevin would come around eventually? He didn’t want that. He wanted Kevin to come around first, he thought, as Sergeant Hal Bodine walked in and set a folder on the table in front of James. He remained standing. Pushing fifty, James decided, and in top physical form.
“I remember everything about this one,” Bodine said. “I only brought the file to show you the photos. The kid, the son of the victim, kept coming in and cornering me to keep looking for different answers.”
James dragged the open file close, angling it so that Sam and Nate could see it, too. They flipped through the photos. He winced. “Kevin, the son, he didn’t see these, did he?”
Bodine stared at James. “No.”
They read and talked about the report—how it had been raining, how a cement truck had dumped a load the day before right on that curve. “I figured Brenley started into a slide and never righted it. There was still some gravel and sand on the road from the cement truck. It was wet.”
