by Unknown
Abbey had sat for hours looking through mug shots last night and had come up empty, which made everyone think that the suspects didn’t have a record. The man Blake had in mind also did not have a record and the coincidence freaked him out. Logically, there was no way this was the same man who had changed his life. His brother’s life.
But what if it was? Blake couldn’t shake the possibility. It’s why he’d decided to go into private investigation.
Troy Mills had been instrumental in saving his family and Blake wanted to learn from him. The man had incredible instincts and had taught Blake to never ignore his gut feeling. Blake’s gut was definitely talking to him now and it was telling him to keep Abbey close.
Closing the door quietly behind him, Blake stopped at the sight of Abbey at the black granite counter in front of the coffeemaker. It was way too early for her to be up. Wearing a form-fitting white top with thin straps and loose black sweats that draped over the sweet curve of her ass, she looked as if she’d already spent time in Troy’s home gym.
“Good morning,” he said softly.
“Morning.”
He noticed the lack of good return.
She glanced over her shoulder and he saw why. Her red-rimmed eyes had that bruised quality of someone who had a lot on her mind. A black band held back her straight hair.
“Did you sleep at all?” He pulled a mug with a Dangerous Race logo from the overhead cabinet next to her.
“Thanks, Blake. I know I look like crap, but did you have to say it?”
Fuck. She always did this. Put words in his mouth and twisted what he never said. She had perfected keeping him and every other man at arm’s length. He just didn’t know why.
“Actually, I asked because I didn’t sleep because the bed in the pool house is too soft. You, as always, look gorgeous.”
She dropped her chin to her chest and Blake watched her struggle to hold it together.
“Abbey…” Frustration bubbled over the edges. It ripped him up to see her so upset. He never knew what to say to her and this was a hundred times worse because he wanted to say the right thing.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. Then she laughed, a dry sound that carried no humor at all before turning to him. “Thank you for yesterday, for being at the Sports Center. Thank you for staying at the police station all that time too.”
Blake shrugged. “I had to.” Her doe-eyed look gave him the opportunity to change her mood. “I had to because Troy was my ride.” He grinned and she smacked his chest, but this time a real smile lifted the corners of her spectacular lips.
How long could a man go dreaming about a pair of lips before he actually got to kiss them? If he ever got to kiss them.
She watched him for a few seconds with those mesmerizing green eyes before focusing back on the coffeemaker.
Blake rarely, if ever, got any alone time with Abbey and when he did, she was quick to vacate the premises. “Ab, you know whatever happens, I’m here for you.”
She didn’t say anything at first, as if she had to measure her answer. “I know. I just hate that you always see me at my worst.” She didn’t even glance at him and Blake zeroed in on her, shocked at her admission. It was the most serious thing she’d ever said to him.
“Hardly. I usually see you at your best. When you’re taking care of Julie or putting out fires to make her life perfect.”
She snorted. “I wouldn’t say I make her life perfect.”
“Yeah, but you come damn close. I see all the stuff you do that goes above and beyond your job. You don’t just pick her clothes up from the cleaners, but you put them away. You don’t just go grocery shopping for her, but you make her favorite meals so their ready to heat up. You make sure her car is washed and gassed up. Those are only the things I see, which means there’s a ton of stuff you do that I don’t see. You handle all the little things that make her life easier. I think you’re amazing.”
She stayed quiet for a minute as she got some milk from the fridge. “Why are you being so nice to me, when I’m such a bitch to you?”
Blake nodded, stoic, but pumping a mental fist in the air with the topic. Sometimes he wondered the same thing, but if Abbey thought about their first meeting, she’d know why. Blake just didn’t plan to set himself up for another fall. Not yet anyway. “That is a very good question and it deserves an answer. Why are you such a bitch to me?”
The look on her face was priceless. Her jaw open, her eyes wide. Blake laughed and gently used his index finger to close her mouth. Just the tiny touch zinged through him. That brief contact of her soft skin sent a bolt of heat straight to his gut.
When she didn’t respond, Blake tried something else. “You’re nice to Troy and I figure it’s because he’s not a threat to you since he’s disgustingly happy being married to Julie. And of course, you love Julie, which is clear in every way imaginable since you take such good care of her. So I see you being nice on a regular basis. You’re just not that nice to me. So then I ask myself, Blake—I call myself Blake since that’s my name—Blake, why do you think Abbey hates you so much?”
Her hint of a smile dimmed at his question. “I don’t hate y—”
“And I answer myself, Blake, she doesn’t hate you. She’s afraid of you.” He took a second to gauge her reaction, her grin long gone. Looking at him, she blinked and swallowed, but she didn’t say anything.
Shit, he hated being right.
Chapter Four
Abbey turned away from Blake and poured the milk as she struggled to find a response. He was one of the nicest guys she’d ever met. He was funny, gorgeous and had everything a girl would want. He didn’t have a threatening bone in his body and he was one hundred percent right. She was scared of him.
Strike that.
She wasn’t scared of Blake specifically. She was scared of all men. But there was no way in hell she planned on admitting that. No one but her family knew her private issues. Not even Julie knew what happened to her nine years ago, and Abbey never planned to tell her, either. That incident was in the past and needed to stay there.
Blake walked to the other side of the large kitchen. “So I’m right.” He took a deep breath before he turned. “I don’t know what I ever did to make you feel that way. You have to know that I would never, could never, hurt you.” His eyes narrowed as he thought about something. “I scared you in the elevator that first time, didn’t I?” He’d nearly kissed her that day. She’d been so freaked out with the elevator about to drop them, and he’d insisted he could take her mind off it. “I swear I only wanted you to think about something else besides dying in an elevator car. Please, Ab. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t,” she said, returning the milk and grabbing the chai from the fridge. Coffee for Troy, chai for Julie. “You have nothing to apologize for.” She turned and saw the frustration in his eyes. God, he was so gorgeous standing there with the morning sun highlighting the red in his dark hair and the stubble covering his jaw. Those mile wide shoulders belonged on a football player and his ass, in an Armani underwear ad. “You didn’t scare me in the elevator. You probably saved my life.” She poured the chai into Julie’s mug. “I’m the one who needs to apologize. I’m sorry I’ve been so horrible.” He deserved it to his face, so she met his gaze. “I’m sorry I’ve been a bitch. You don’t deserve to be treated that way by anybody.”
“You haven’t been a bitch. Just a puzzle.” He studied her now. Troy had done a great job of teaching him how to read people. Abbey kept her posture straight the way she always did and didn’t blink. “Why are you scared, Abbey?”
Damn it, why’d he have to be so astute? So sweet? Why did he sound so concerned and gentle? That time she blinked. God, did he think all he had to do was ask…that he had a right to know just because he softened his tone?
Footsteps in the hallway preceded Troy and Julie’s voices, and Abbey turned back to the counter to finish making the chai. “I made your coffee and chai,” she said as they entered.
&nbs
p; Julie stepped up behind her and set her hands on her shoulders. “You didn’t have to do this. I was hoping you’d sleep in until we had to go. I wanted to bring you some coffee.”
“You know me. I’m always up early. If I don’t work out first thing in the morning, I won’t get it done.” Abbey turned and gave her a quick hug. She didn’t like people behind her. “You guys really don’t have to go with me,” she said again. She hated upending everyone’s busy lives.
Julie glared at her. “I’m not letting you go back to the police station by yourself and I won’t say it again. Deal with it.”
A grin lit Abbey up from the inside. She really did love her boss. “Yes, ma’—”
“Don’t you dare ma’am me,” Julie said. “I’m not even thirty.”
“Yes, sir,” Abbey said obediently.
Troy chuckled. “Looks like Abbey is learning from the master.” Then he bumped his wife’s shoulder with his own.
“Comedy is all in the timing,” Julie said and the bell for the microwave dinged. “See. Just like that. Timing.” She lifted an eyebrow and snagged her chai.
Abbey glanced at Blake, but her smile faded when she saw the serious look in his eyes. He wasn’t done with their conversation. He was like Troy when it came to wanting answers.
Just like yesterday, Julie, Troy and Blake took her back to the police station. She barely noticed the hot summer sun and didn’t like the way they constantly looked around as if she might be a target. Wouldn’t the shooters be long gone by now? Troy and Blake were paranoid because they were PIs. Looking around was second nature to them. Maybe if she said it in three languages she’d believe it. Too bad she didn’t know that many languages.
A buff police officer showed them to a private room with gray walls, nothing but a barebones desk, a couple of chairs and a computer. “Officer Rivera will be right with you.” The small room lacked windows and already Abbey’s claustrophobia made her skin prickle. Didn’t matter that the people supporting her were in sight.
An officer walked in and put his hand out. “Hi, I’m Officer Rivera. Miss Washington?” Older than she expected, the man had to be in his late fifties. His short gray hair, brown eyes and weathered face struck her as retired cop, not active duty.
“Yes. Hi. Nice to meet you.” She shook his hand, caught the once over he gave her and stood a little taller. She introduced Julie, Troy and Blake.
“I usually like to do this without anyone else but the witness,” he said, with a sympathetic look. “There can be too much distraction with too many people in the room.”
Troy read his message loud and clear. “Julie and I will wait out front. Blake, maybe you should stay. You were there longer than we were. You might have seen something and you don’t even realize it. Maybe something Abbey says might spark a memory.” He glanced at the officer. “You okay if he stays?”
“Yeah. If he was there, he might be able to add something. It’s fine.”
Troy ushered his wife toward the door. “We’ll stay close by.”
Abbey never got a second to argue because the door closed behind them.
“Have a seat.” The officer moved the extra chair behind the desk so they both faced the computer. Blake leaned against the wall, his expression poker-face blank.
With rattled nerves, Abbey picked at the polish on her thumbnail. The room took her back nine years, after she’d been rescued. When the authorities asked her about what happened. It closed in on her now the way it did then. She’d wanted to get away from the stares as her parents had walked through the station, but the small room had been a different hell. Four walls closing in on her… It seemed like a lifetime ago. It seemed like yesterday. Funny how it went either way. Abbey blinked back the memory and focused on the man behind the computer. “Where do we start? How do we do this?”
Officer Rivera tapped at his keyboard and never looked up. “Just describe each man you saw yesterday. One at a time. It’s easy.”
Easy? This seemed like the farthest thing from easy she’d ever done. Sure, she’d seen the guy, and the cops had discovered that the man at the door hadn’t really been part of the event staff, but could she describe either one well enough for this man to make a composite? What if she got it completely wrong and the pictures didn’t look anything like either man? How could she make him fix it?
“Relax. You’ll do fine. I know it’s scary, but this software is pretty good. I think you’ll be surprised what you can remember. I’ll help you.” He gave her a supportive smile and showed off a slightly crooked front tooth. “Let’s start with the first man, the one with the knife. What was the shape of his face? Round? Oval? Maybe he had a square jaw?” He pulled up a page that covered every possible jaw line and Abbey finally had to describe it and let the officer choose. As she looked at the picture, she could help define it better.
That’s how it went for the next forty-five minutes. Officer Rivera asked questions and tapped on his keyboard. Blake didn’t budge from his spot near the wall, but she could practically feel his tension, which did nothing for her nerves. Still he quietly urged her on when she got frustrated and didn’t think she could come up with anything else specific about the man besides his thick, bushy eyebrows, fat nose and Fu Manchu, which they all knew he could shave off in a heartbeat. His dark sunglasses had hid his eyes and his cap had covered his head. Not a whole lot to work with.
Officer Rivera put a few final touches on the face then turned the monitor toward her. “What do you think? Close?”
“That’s good,” she said. “But we still can’t really see him.”
“The point is to see what you saw.” With a little more prompting, he made a few adjustments and refined the picture even more. Then they took a break before starting on the next one with the same process. Another forty-five minutes later he adjusted the monitor toward her again.
Blake had come around them as she’d described the other suspect and stood behind Abbey’s chair. “Holy shit,” he said softly.
Abbey and the officer both glanced at him. He looked as pale as Abbey had ever seen him. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“The guy you just described.” Blake ran his hand over his jaw, but never took his gaze off the computer screen. “I know him.”
“How? From where?” Abbey stood as Blake swallowed hard. She’d never seen him like this. “Who is he?”
“The only name I have for him is Kwami. He’s already wanted for kidnapping and assault, among other things.”
“Who’d he kidnap,” Officer Rivera asked, grabbing a nearby phone off the base.
Blake took a deep breath. “Me. And my whole family.”
A cold chill streaked down Abbey’s back. She knew Blake’s history because Julie had starred in the movie written about the event. It had been national news when his family had been rescued.
“He was one of the guys who worked for Paul Facinetti two years ago. He was in the car that got away when the cops zeroed in on the house.” Blake’s eyes turned icy blue. “He’s the one who cut off Brendan’s earlobe.”
Abbey knew this from the movie about the event, and she’d met Blake’s twin brother, Brendan, a few times during the past year.
The officer listened carefully to Blake then called the detectives on the case. Blake took a moment to send a text. A few minutes later, the small room filled up when the detectives assigned the case and Troy and Julie all filed in.
“You’re sure this is the guy from your kidnapping?” Detective O’Kelly asked as Rivera handed him the printout of the composite. O’Kelly’s blond hair and blue eyes were better suited to an actor than a cop.
“I’m sure,” Blake said. “I’ll never forget his face. Problem is he wasn’t in the system two years ago and I doubt he is now or someone would’ve caught the connection.”
“This gives us something to work with,” O’Kelly replied. “We’ll dive back into Paul Facinetti’s life and see if we can’t find more on this guy. If I remember right, Facinetti’s cousin
took over his end of the business so we’ve got a good place to start.”
“The whole reason I went into this line of work was to find the asshole who hurt my brother. I want this son of a bitch behind bars where he belongs.” Every muscle seemed taut, and the intensity in Blake’s eyes might’ve scared Abbey if she didn’t know him.
Abbey had never asked Blake about the ordeal, but looking at him now, she realized it had affected him as profoundly as her own assault.
Kim took her breakfast dishes to the sink and looked out the window at the backyard. The bright sun climbed up and over the trees and made the small ripple in the aqua pool sparkle like diamonds. She looked around the opulent grounds. Not a bad life if you had it. Of course, she didn’t. Her stay was only temporary. A huge drag considering she could get used to this place. A girl could dream.
“I told you the maid would do that. What are you daydreaming about over there?” Stephanie asked as she came closer, sipping her coffee.
“Life,” Kim said, facing the massive kitchen with its gray granite counters, mosaic backsplash and antique cabinets. The dark porcelain flooring sparkled with a high sheen. “Just wondering when I might get one.” She smiled at her friend because she didn’t want to be a Debbie Downer. “So what’s the plan for today? Am I going to Carl’s office or am I working from here?” She had no delusions about the amount of work ahead of her if Carl wanted her to go through the books. Apparently the man had his finger in everything from entertainment to sports to finance. If he suspected a problem, Kim doubted it was going to be something glaringly obvious. If this Nathan guy had really embezzled from him, and he was halfway decent at it, he should’ve been able to hide it, which meant Kim had to take her time.
“I think Carl wants to go to Nathan’s office first and see if he can talk to him face-to-face. But he wants you to go with him.” Stephanie poured herself a second cup of coffee. “Carl thinks if Nathan sees an outside source about to go through the files that he’ll come clean. Personally, I think Carl has given him way too many chances already, but there’s nothing I can do about it now. The damage is done, whatever it is.”
