“No, and Randall Bresler, the guy behind it, signed three to six month leases on several houses in town to bunk workers. I think it’s damned unlikely that anyone after Naomi knew about the employment opportunity, went through the hoops to get hired and is showing up for work every day, though.”
“No,” Adam agreed, “unless Cobb’s people had located her sooner than we think.”
“There’s no chance he has the means to find a local with a gambling problem and major debts, say, who’d be subject to pressure?”
Now, there was an unwelcome idea. Outsiders would be easier to identify.
“I know he’s into drugs,” Adam told them. “That might give him some connections up this way.”
“That’s one problem we don’t have much in this county,” the sheriff observed. “Possession, sure, but we don’t have enough population to provide a worthwhile marketplace.”
“We’ll assume outsiders for the moment.” Daniel was frowning, too, though. “He – either he – could be bedding down anywhere up to an hour away, though. Doesn’t have to be here in town.”
“And, assuming you’re right and there are two of them around, does the guy trying to get his hands on Naomi’s computer know the sniper is here in town, too?” Mackay threw out. “And vice versa?”
“Her having to go to the hospital with a GSW probably gave the sniper away,” Adam pointed out. “If the sniper is who I’m thinking he is, he had to assume someone from Cobb’s organization was after her, too.”
Daniel muttered something obscene.
Adam told them about Sam Weismann and their shirt-tail relationship. “I trust him as much as I do anyone. He’s in a position to take a look at agents who just happen to be on vacation right now, or doing unspecified field work that can’t quite be pinned down,” he said.
They felt some of the same hesitations he did, but finally agreed that the advantages outweighed the possibility of word getting back to the dirty agent that questions were being asked.
In the end, they decided that Adam would be tied up with the protection detail, Daniel would investigate room or tent site-by-the-night possibilities in Cape Trouble and Jasper Beach, and Alex Mackay would cover the rest of the county as much as possible. He was going to call one of his detectives during the drive back to North Fork and assign the job.
“Call me paranoid,” Adam said, remembering the way his hackles had lifted as he watched Detective Payne scrutinize the street, “but I was a little bothered that one of your detectives was close enough to respond almost immediately to her 911 call when she suspected the break-in.”
The sheriff, already in the doorway, turned back to look at him. “Who was it?”
Daniel said, “I checked. Ah…something Payne.”
“Jason.” Mackay seemed to mull it over. “I don’t know anything bad about him, but he hasn’t been with the department very long. Came from Eugene or Corvallis, someplace like that. I think there were family reasons. His responding to the call the way he did was entirely appropriate if he happened to be right by Jasper Beach.”
“How long is not long?” Adam asked.
“I’ll have to look. Three or four months.” He frowned. “I had in mind to call Sean Holbeck. Daniel has worked with him.”
“He seemed to know his job,” Daniel concurred.
The other men promised to stay in touch and, reassured, Adam left. A glance at his watch told him he’d be in time to get lunch at the café, assuming the chef hadn’t crossed her fingers behind her back when she swore she’d stay put, and tried for another getaway.
*****
Naomi twisted in the car seat to stare at Adam in alarm. “You may trust this FBI agent friend, but why should I?”
“Sam is…” He started to say, more than a friend, but calling him friend wasn’t right, either. It wasn’t as if they socialized except when they were dragged into it by their respective siblings. “He’s kind of family,” he finally said. His gaze flicked between rear-view and side mirrors and straight ahead. No tail that he could see, but why would anybody bother? Everyone concerned knew where Naomi lived.
“Kind of family?” She had a death grip on the seatbelt where it crossed her chest. “What’s that mean?”
“Sam’s brother is married to my sister. When Ellen got married, I gave her away and Sam was best man. To their kids, I’m Uncle Adam, he’s Uncle Sam.”
She blinked at that. “How long have you known him?”
“Uh…” He had to think. “Ellen and Ben are coming up on their ten year anniversary.”
“You’re positive about this guy.”
“Yes,” he said, a little surprised how sure he was. “I can also tell you, if he’d been the man you saw that night, you would have remembered his face.”
“Why?” she said suspiciously.
He smiled as he put on the signal for the turn into Jasper Beach. “Big nose. Really big nose.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught her trying not to smile.
“Really ought to make an appointment with a plastic surgeon big?”
“Oh, yeah.” Now he grinned. “His wife says it’s sexy. Big hands, big nose, big…” He let it trail off, warmed by the tiny giggle he heard. “Sam blushed. I didn’t know he could.”
“Does he have children, too?”
“Two. Teenagers. He’s older than Ben.”
Naomi averted her face again until they reached her driveway. Then she agreed suddenly, “Okay. You’re right. I’d remember a big nose.”
“I wish we had a forensic artist. A good one might be able to pull more out of you than you think you remember.”
“That sounds painful. What do they do, squeeze your brain like a toothpaste tube?”
He’d turned off the engine and remove the key, but she hadn’t moved. The way she was eyeing her small house gave Adam the idea that she wasn’t eager to go in.
He chuckled at her imagery. “Never seen one work,” he said. “The one my department uses won’t let anyone watch. She closets herself with the witness, and next thing we know she’s drawn a face that nine times out of ten proves to be amazingly like the scumbag we end up arresting.”
“Do you think of everyone you arrest as scum?” Now she did look at him, her gaze unexpectedly intense. “Don’t you ever have doubts? Or…or understand why they might have done what they did?”
“Do you understand why our friend up on the bluff tried to take you out with a bullet?” he asked harshly.
Naomi winced and looked away. “No,” she said in a small voice. “Of course not.” As if galvanized, she unclipped the seatbelt, grabbed her bag and opened her door.
“Just a minute. Let me get around there.”
Her surprised face turned to him, but she did wait. He used his body to screen hers from the likeliest direction a shot could come and hustled her inside, his head turning the whole way. “I wish we had some Kevlar for you to wear.”
“Some what?”
“A vest. Bullet-proof.”
“Oh. Do you have one?”
“In California. The sheriff is going to rustle one up for me and see what he can find that might fit you, too. He doesn’t think they have any sized for a woman, though.”
She rolled her eyes. “Doesn’t that figure.”
“Do they have any women deputies?”
“I’m sure I’ve seen a couple of different ones.” She walked through to the living room and set her bag onto the coffee table.
He hovered in the doorway between the kitchen and living room, not wanting to crowd Naomi.
Or maybe the trouble was that he did. The last thing he should do was make any kind of move on her. Aside from ethical considerations, he felt sure it wouldn’t be well received. He watched with some chagrin as she cradled her injured arm with her other hand now that it was free. Her face was drawn, making him freshly aware of how fine-boned she was, how small. How vulnerable, for all her defiance.
“You hurt,” he said, straightening.<
br />
She offered a one-shouldered shrug. “I’m lucky it was my left arm. But I can’t cook very well with one hand, and I wasn’t about to have the café closed another day when it was supposed to be open.”
He couldn’t help raising his eyebrows. “Yeah? Didn’t look to me like lunch was ready to be served when you pulled your little stunt.”
“Fine.” She looked at him with dislike. “You’re right. It would have been closed forever if I’d had my way.” She snatched up her bag again and started toward the bedroom. “I’m going to lie down.”
“That’s probably a good idea.” With a closed door between them, his head would clear. By the time she reappeared, he could be dispassionate again.
And if he believed that, next thing he knew he’d be whipping out his checkbook to buy one of those sea stacks along this stretch of coast, one that supported a couple of spindly trees on top and was no earthly good to anybody except as a backdrop in a scenic photograph.
He told himself he was trailing her through the small house to make sure she actually went into her bedroom and not out the front door. But just before she closed yet another door in his face, he heard himself say, sounding pissed, “Why am I the bad guy here, Naomi?”
She swung around, glower in place. “You’re kidding.”
“No.” Okay, now he was crowding her, but she wasn’t backing away, either. He inhaled the scent of her, woman and a hint of ripe peach. So little to arouse him. “I’m trying to keep you safe. I’m trying to figure out who killed a good man. Get the evidence to convict the guys who killed another good man. Why does any of this make me a bug you want to squash?”
“Because you could have just asked!” she yelled. “You didn’t have to lie. You didn’t have to—”
“Kiss you?” He leaned in even closer. “Is that what I didn’t have to do that makes you so mad?”
“Yes!”
“I didn’t do it because I had to. You know that, don’t you, Naomi? I kissed you because I—” Had to. God help him. Just not the kind of ‘had to’ she’d meant. “I want you,” he said hoarsely. “I’ve wanted you since I set eyes on you. Does that make me the enemy?”
She stared at him, seemingly speechless.
He groaned and reached for her.
CHAPTER NINE
On a surge of need she couldn’t combat, Naomi rose on tiptoe and flung her arms around his neck. She didn’t allow herself to think; didn’t want to think, because if she did she’d be afraid.
His mouth was hot and hard and hungry. The kiss was almost angry. He resented her as much as he wanted her. He resented her because he wanted her. She felt the same, but right this minute she didn’t care. If she’d ever been driven by this wild need to merge with another human being, she couldn’t remember it.
He devoured her mouth, his tongue driving deep. One big hand wrapped the back of her head so he could adjust the angle to please him. His other hand gripped her hip and buttock so tight she’d probably find fingerprints later. He lifted her and pulled her so close his heat burned her through their clothing and she felt every hard inch of him.
Naomi was mindless, ravenous, melting down and yet buzzing with energy all at once. She wanted to climb higher on his body, get closer, explore him, but she’d have to free one of her hands to wrench his shirt up, and she was already savoring the feel of his bare skin and the taut muscles of his neck, the thick silk of his dark hair. She heard herself making little noises, answered by rumbles from him. His hips rocked, and she wanted nothing more than to wrap her legs around him and take him inside. Let him fill her, make her forget—
“Damn,” he groaned, lifting his head to look down at her with burning eyes. “Naomi—”
Sex is just sex, remember? whispered a voice in her head. Is that really what you want?
“Oh, my God.” She went rigid in his arms, then lurched back. What had she been thinking?
That was the trouble. She’d been trying not to think, and look where that had gotten her.
He didn’t try to come after her. His expression changed slowly, the lust that burnished his cheeks fading into shock.
“I didn’t mean—” He stopped and shook his head, as if he was trying to get a defunct appliance to start. His brain. If it was slow responding, that was probably because his blood had all gone south. The thick ridge under his zipper wasn’t subsiding.
A longing cramp deep inside made her wish she hadn’t looked. She folded her arms tightly over her breasts. “What didn’t you mean?”
For a moment he tipped his head back and looked up at the ceiling. Then his eyes met hers with painful honesty. “I meant to kiss you. But…not to take it as far as I did. Neither of us is quite ready for where we were going.”
“I thought men were always ready.” She sounded both belligerent and hurt, a mix that made her cringe.
“This wasn’t like that.”
“What was it like?”
“My body has been ready from the beginning. I think you knew that.”
She gave a little shrug. Her body had been ready since she set eyes on him, too. There’d been that burst of adrenaline and fear, both because he might be the enemy and because she couldn’t afford to fall for a man.
“But I haven’t known how far I can trust you,” he said. “I’m pretty sure I want more than a couple of nights in your bed, Naomi. What I want…takes trust. On both sides.”
This longing cramp was centered under her breastbone. She had to ignore it, too. “Then you shouldn’t have started anything. I don’t think I know how to trust. It’s…never worked out that well for me.” She hated knowing how pathetic she sounded., but she’d already told him too much about herself the other night.
“I don’t believe that,” he said softly, his gaze laser sharp now. “I think you’re scared because you trust me.”
It was like a hard smack that spun her head to one side. Yes. She wanted to.
I do, she thought hopelessly. I trust him to follow his convictions and to hold onto his loyalties. One of the most powerful of which was to Frank Donahue, because Frank had come to stand in for Adam’s father. He couldn’t salvage his father’s reputation, change what he and his mother and sister had suffered because of his father’s disgrace, but he thought he could salvage Frank’s for the sake of his wife and kids. Naomi had no idea if he understood how deep his identification with Frank’s family went.
Admitting Frank had been been on Greg Cobb’s payroll and willing to commit a cold-blooded murder would mean more than accepting his partner’s weakness and guilt; it also meant facing the possibility his father hadn’t been wronged at all, that he’d been on the take. Adam wanted to believe in his father. And he’d worked day in and day out for three years with Frank. Her, he’d known a few days.
If she were to trust him, that meant she had to tell him. And she already knew his trust wouldn’t extend far enough to allow him to believe her.
So…it was a really good thing they were standing several feet apart now, because she had been about to make another huge mistake.
“I hope you mean it about keeping me alive,” she said. “But, see, I’m not even so sure you do. So, trust? It’s not happening.”
He studied her for a long time. Her skin crawled, because she could swear he knew what she’d been thinking. But finally he dipped his head and one side of his mouth lifted.
“Okay, Naomi. We’ll stick with keeping you alive for now.”
“Good idea,” she said sharply.
“I had a question.” It almost sounded casual. “Once when we were talking, you said something about your restaurant. You said ‘we’ offered lunch and dinner. Did that mean you had a partner or investor?”
She blinked in surprise. Whatever she’d expected, this wasn’t it. “No. The money was all mine, mine was the only name on the loan application, and I told you I like to be in control. That kind of business is a team effort, though. With the café, I come closer to managing on my own, but I still can’t. If
you’d asked about it, I’d have told you ‘we’ offer breakfast and lunch.”
“Okay. Just curious.”
Right. “You thought Greg was a silent partner which is why he could do whatever he wanted at the restaurant.”
Adam frowned. “The thought crossed my mind back when you said that. I’ve…come to know you well enough to doubt it could be true, but I needed to ask.”
“Well, now you know.” Thank goodness, she’d donned hostility again as if it was a protective garment – Kevlar, she thought. And, oh, she needed it. “And if you don’t mind, I’d like to lie down. So…”
His eyes narrowed, but he also gave something like a bow that was just a little bit mocking before he backed out of her bedroom doorway, letting her – finally! – close him out and be alone.
And then she didn’t move, just kept standing there staring at the door and wishing for things she couldn’t have. For too much.
*****
When he reached Sam, Adam said, “Any chance you can call me back?”
The small silence told him Sam understood what he was asking. “Sure, give me a few minutes. I’m tied up right now.”
His usual restless self, Adam prowled through Naomi’s small house. When he was a kid, a teacher had been convinced he was hyperactive and he’d been tested. The conclusion was that his powers of concentration were just fine; his problem was keeping his butt in the chair. That hadn’t changed, although he’d learned to channel his inability to stay still for any length of time.
What he wanted to do was walk the perimeter, but not when he was distracted by waiting for a phone call. Instead, he eased a curtain aside a couple of times just enough to peer out. Her cottage was situated a few blocks from the highway. From here, he couldn’t see the few small stores and the gas station. This was the quietest damn neighborhood he’d ever seen. He assumed that would change when the new resort opened. Naomi had told him a couple of artists had studios here at Jasper Beach, but if so they hardly ever emerged, either. He’d seen other curtains twitch up and down the street, though, so he knew the unusual action at Naomi’s place had been closely observed.
See How She Runs (A Cape Trouble Novel Book 2) Page 14
