by Misty Dietz
Or was it hurt? Vulnerability disguised by a moody, bad boy veneer. Even without the organ donor thing in the mix, he was one honey of a package. He had a quiet core of strength, a straightforwardness, and down-in-the-trenches humble nature that made you feel like he wouldn’t abandon you in stormy weather. And he certainly hadn’t. He’d stuck by her through multiple visions when most people would’ve probably run the other way or called the psych ward of one of the local hospitals.
She imagined the men who worked at Samuel’s respected him. That they gave him their best, along with all their life stories—kids and anniversaries and family dramas. He seemed to draw secrets and personal history from you without even trying.
Even as he, himself, remained a mystery. Because he sure as heck didn’t volunteer much about himself.
It was another log on her Zack Goldman fire.
Fire. Maybe that’s where that vision had originated. But why? What did it mean?
She reached for her purse. After taking something for her headache, she walked to the bathroom, brushed her teeth, then gathered her hair into a ponytail. Looking for something to tie it with, she spotted the gauzy blue scarf Zack had wound around his hands this morning. She picked it up, the transparent material sending echoes of his scraped, rugged fingers like whispers across her skin.
Her heart beat uncomfortably faster until she reached for her beat-up cadet hat with the large pink dragonfly. Hats just like it had been among her first purchases for the store, and had become a staple of the boutique since. She put it on and felt more in control. Smoke and mirrors.
Well, yeah, but right now she’d take what she could get.
Over the plain white sink of her utilitarian office bathroom, she regarded the gray-brown eyes she’d hated since middle school and told herself that she had nothing more to offer Zack in his search for Ann. She’d tried, but had only come up with more questions.
That was it, then. She’d have to steer clear of emotional attachments to the combustible material that was Zack Goldman.
But damned if he wasn’t a fire she hated to put out.
Chapter Ten
Twyla Raessler opened the door to the home she shared with her husband and smiled at Zack unreservedly. He returned her hug, careful of the growing bump at her waist, and noted the increased pallor of her complexion.
“Where you been so long, sweetheart?” She grabbed his hand to pull him inside, and moments later a powerfully built man roamed into the foyer. His knuckles caressed Twyla’s cheek before he shifted his attention to Zack.
“Goldman.” Archie Raessler and Zack exchanged a quick handshake and half-hug before Archie’s arm settled protectively around his wife’s shoulders. A flash of movement on the staircase drew their attention, and Zack extended his arms to catch a flying mass of six-year-old exuberance.
“Uncle Zack! See my cape?” Logan Raessler’s arms flapped. “Now I’m a superhero like you!”
Zack looked into Logan’s vivid blue eyes and a lump jammed his throat. He squeezed the boy to his chest, catching the brief look between Archie and Twyla before she brushed at her eyes.
This family deserved decades together. He’d give Twyla both damn kidneys if she needed them. No question.
He put his head next to Logan’s, inhaled the salty-sweet scent of boyhood, and then tickled the superhero until he wriggled, giggled, and begged to be let down. When Zack set him down, he scurried off to the playroom, his superhero cape billowing out behind him.
Morgan floated down the stairs, examining a light green baby blanket. “Twy, you gotta teach me how to do these bobble stitch borders.” When she reached the landing, Zack laughed at the sudden blank look on her face.
“Long time no see, huh, Morgan? Didn’t see your car out front. What’d you do, walk?” he asked.
Archie snickered. “You know she can’t exercise, man, she’d lose a cup size.”
“Shut up, loser. You should talk. Married life’s making you soft around the middle.” She lunged at Archie, but her pinch found nothing but the fabric of his T-shirt. Her cheeks dimpled as she turned to Zack. “Since you’re burning to know, I hitched a ride. Wanna know who with?”
Not right now. He had enough to worry about without having to wonder who was carting Morgan around these days.
Twyla grabbed his arm and steered him into the kitchen where he’d spent countless hours talking, laughing, and learning what a healthy marriage looked like.
A safe haven where no one would sell him out.
“This is lovely being together so spontaneously. Are you hungry? Knowing you, you’ve been too busy to catch some lunch again, right?”
“Right before I came, I stopped at home to let the hounds out. I grabbed something then, so don’t worry about me.”
But within minutes, she’d slid a plate heaped with sweet breads, cold cuts, cheese, and crackers in front of him. He smiled. “This looks great, but not as good as you. You look beautiful like always, Twyla.”
Morgan swiped a piece of Colby off Zack’s plate. “Brown-noser.”
Twyla set a glass of milk in front of Zack, a pretty beam bringing some color to her cheeks. “Hear that, Arch? Six weeks to go, and I’m still beautiful.”
Archie pulled her into his lap, his grin softening the scare factor of the jaguar tattoo wrapped around his neck. “I’ve told you that many times, but do I get the kind of reaction he does?”
Zack felt a curious pang watching them. He took a swig of milk hoping to ease the void in his chest. An image of a leggy blonde sashayed through his mind. He scraped the back of his knuckles against his stubbled cheek and looked up to see Morgan watching him.
Forcing another smile, he dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. “Glad to see you still keep him leashed, Twy.”
Archie rolled his eyes. “Glad to see you up North. Ann all moved into her new condo yet?”
Twyla moved off Archie’s lap. “I thought she would’ve called to keep me posted, but I suppose she’s been busy between work and packing. I’m dying to see how she’ll set up her new place, especially since she started working at Skinny Dipping. I love that store!”
Zack looked down at his plate, his chest tight. The small hope that either of them might know Ann’s whereabouts flickered and died. But was he really surprised? The note, Sloane’s visions, and his gut all told him the same thing.
Someone had taken Ann, and things were bad.
He’d been a jerk. He’d helped Ann move in more than a month ago, and she lived only a few miles from here. He’d meant to stop by. He truly had, but how could he tell these guys that lately their collective happiness made him edgy? How fucked up was that?
He glanced over at Morgan, who was now seemingly engrossed studying the fuzzy blanket. She knew when he’d moved Ann. The hellion had worn out her welcome at Ann’s for three miserable hours, mocking how he carried boxes, unwrapped dishes, and arranged furniture until Ann had finally taken pity on him and told Morgan to lay off the wisecracks or she wouldn’t get any more hand-me-downs.
So, she could have busted him. She normally lived for that kind of thing. Why didn’t she say anything? He looked down at his plate again.
“Zack?” Twyla’s tone made his eyes prickle. “What’s wrong?”
Everything. “It’s all good. Ann’s pretty much settled in the condo now.”
“Why’ve you been such a ghost, then? I thought she lived a stone’s throw from here.”
He pretended not to notice Archie nudge his wife under the table. Tell them how it feels like there’s a hole the size of a meteor in your chest. How you want John back.
Ann back.
Her absence hadn’t started with the note this morning. They’d been close while John was alive, but that had all changed when the EMTs had pronounced him dead on arrival almost a year ago. Instead of their grief drawing them together, it had isolated them, as though they couldn’t stand seeing their own pain reflected in one another’s eyes. John would be devastated.
&
nbsp; And pissed.
Zack rubbed his palms together, the emptiness inside him expanding until he was sure that if someone yelled in his ear it would echo in his chest cavity. Archie’s eyes narrowed.
“Zack?” Twyla laid a hand on his arm, and he almost came out of the chair.
Get a grip, Goldman. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I’ve been super busy with the mall project. Two days to go until we’re done, and in some ways I still wish I hadn’t won the bid. The Benjamin Group’s a nightmare to work with, not to mention getting them to pay their bills on time.”
“Things pretty tight?”
Zack leaned back in the chair, willing his body to relax in spite of Archie’s eagle eyes. “Yeah. Ultimately, this project should help us pull out of it, though I need more jobs lined up. None of my people can afford to be laid off.”
Another thing that kept him up at night.
One of his foremen had a fifth child on the way. A supervisor’s wife had to have a third round of chemo and even though Samuel’s provided excellent medical coverage, the family’s bills were staggering, especially with two of their kids in college. And on it went with so many of his people.
“I thought John always had good cash flow.”
“He did. I don’t know what happened. Ross is going over the books to see where the holes are. He’s already found a few, so that’s promising.”
“Someone siphoning?”
“Ross seems to think so, but he doesn’t have any proof yet. If anyone can find it, he’s the man.” He has to. “I’m lucky he’s stayed with me since John—” He couldn’t get the words out. But they knew. Twyla reached over to squeeze his hand. When the ache in his throat eased, he pushed the plate away. “It’s my own fault for not taking a more active role in the back office.”
Archie sat back. “What, you expect to run the whole business alone?”
“It’d be nice.” How was he going to broach the topic of Ann’s disappearance? He looked into the eyes of each of his friends. If he couldn’t trust these three, everything he’d reconstructed his life on was a sham. “Ann’s gone.”
“What do you mean gone?” Twyla asked.
He told them about Ann’s disappearance and the note, leaving Sloane out of the picture. He wasn’t sure how to explain any of that. Nor his growing belief in something that he would have ridiculed only yesterday.
Twyla rubbed her belly. “This is scary. Do you still have the note?”
He pulled it from his pocket and laid it on the table. Archie picked it up, and Zack continued. “I talked to her last night, but she didn’t say anything about going out of town or being unavailable. Has she talked to any of you about anyone she’s been seeing lately?”
Morgan shook her head and got up to get a pop from the fridge.
“She hasn’t said anything to me,” Twyla said. “Guys ask her out, but she’s just so shy she usually says no. I tease her that she needs a higher power to intercede to make her bold. She always jokes back that it’d be her luck to fall in love with a pastor.”
Archie put his elbows on the table. “Have you filed a report with the police?”
“Yeah, right before I stopped at home.”
“How were you received at the department?”
Zack interlaced his fingers behind his head. Being around Archie was like living in a Petri dish. Couldn’t hide shit even if you grew fur. “Let me put it this way. Barnaba’s been promoted to head up the CAPERS unit.”
Archie pounded his fist on the table, rattling the silverware. “No way, man.”
“A few months ago, I guess. Yay for me.” Zack downed the rest of his milk.
“What am I missing? What’s CAPERS?”
All three looked at Twyla. Zack tried to remember how much she already knew. Morgan must have read his mind. “CAPERS is the Crimes Against Persons division within the Criminal Investigations Unit at the Fargo PD. CAPERS scopes out missing persons. And from Zack’s information, an old crum bum’s now the big dog.”
“Crum bum?”
“Enemy.” Morgan spit the word out. “Barnaba’s the guy who sent Zack to prison.”
“That’s ridiculous. I know you guys haven’t always been model citizens,” Twyla said, jabbing Archie when he snorted, “but you’ve proven to be law abiding for at least ten years now. Isn’t a cop supposed to do his or her job, no matter who needs help?”
He and Archie exchanged a smile. He wished everyone could be as forgiving as Twyla, but he knew Detective Tony Barnaba’s hatred would follow him to the grave. Thing is, he probably deserved it.
Archie cracked his knuckles. “Zack ever tell you about Barnaba’s wife, Kasey?”
“Butterface bint.” They all looked at Morgan, surprised at her vehemence.
Twyla turned back to Zack. “No. But she’s the one, isn’t she?”
Zack stilled. “The one?”
“Who put that sad look in your eyes,” she said.
“You can’t read people’s feelings in their eyes.” Unless they’re she-wolf eyes.
“You’re wrong, Zack. A person’s eyes are the proverbial window to their soul.”
Archie tucked his hand under Twyla’s hair to lightly knead her neck. “Someone said Tony finally threw Kasey out a few years ago. Guess he found her in bed with her karate instructor.”
Classic Kasey. “Whatever. Doesn’t matter anymore.” Zack got up to pace over to one of the windows that faced Archie’s large workshop, the river, and their back acreage where three dogs were rolling around like cats in a bed of catnip. He looked back to find Archie watching him, his demeanor calm. “Bart Winters still work in the department? I know he had access to the Motor Vehicle Database.”
“No. Bart retired a couple years ago. What’s up, man? What do you think’s going on with Ann?”
“I knocked on a few doors in her neighborhood before I stopped at the station. The police will probably send someone out to do the same, but I…wanted to do something.” He paused and Archie nodded. Of course he’d understand. Archie had always been a man of action. “Anyway, one of her neighbors is an old lady on oxygen who does jigsaw puzzles on a card table in front of her picture window. She said she often sees a white Lexus parked in Ann’s driveway. She also made sure I knew that the man who drives it is way too old for Ann.” He could barely get the words past the ache in his throat.
“There you go. Ann’s probably on a weekend tryst.” Twyla started clearing the table with Morgan’s help. “I sure as heck wouldn’t have informed either of my brothers if I was planning a romantic getaway before I was married. They would have been hyper-protective too.”
“I wish you were right, honey, but I think Zack should trust his gut and find out who owns the Lexus.” Archie looked at Zack. “Winters is out, but I can ask around to see if anyone else has any suggestions. Have you checked the hospitals?”
“Yeah. Nothing.”
“The gym, the office, the new store where she works?” After Zack’s nod, Archie paused, his eyes steady on Zack. “The morgue?”
Dishes clattered into the sink, but Twyla quickly recovered, her gaze shooting to her husband. Pressure grew in Zack’s chest until he felt as though he’d suffocate unless he got outside.
He shouldn’t have come. Of course they didn’t know anything about Ann. He was on his own.
“Don’t need to check the damn morgue. The police would’ve been more interested in my story if they had an unidentified body floating around.” He strode over to kiss Twyla’s cheek. “Thanks for lunch. Take care of yourself and those kids.” He nodded at the table. “Morgan.”
She scrambled up from her chair. “Zack, wait! Do you want me to—”
He didn’t hear the rest. The door had already slammed behind him like a judge’s gavel, sentencing him to stupidity.
Because, for better or for worse, he knew where he was headed. And she might not be too happy about it.
Chapter Eleven
When the knock came, Sloane knew it was him.
&n
bsp; Had to be, otherwise why would her heart be pounding so furiously? Now she knew why she’d felt compelled to stay at the store on a Sunday after they’d closed at six. Glancing at her watch, she crammed the inventory slips into the back of the desk and peeked at the door, wondering what to do. She’d told herself to keep her hormones in line, but that didn’t mean she didn’t care to know what was happening with Ann. Right?
She nearly knocked a chair over on her way to the door. She slid to a halt beside it, and then took extra slow steps the rest of the way. She pushed it outward so forcefully she nearly clocked him. “Zack?”
A shy smile seemed to form almost against his will. “Hi. Nice hat.”
“Thanks. I like dragonflies. They symbolize power, poise, and…living in the moment.” His hair was even blacker than the T-shirt that clung to him. And he still hadn’t shaved. She wondered how that chiseled, shadowy jaw line would feel against her skin. How’s that for living in the moment? She rubbed the goose bumps on her arms and drew back to let him in.
He tugged at his shirt collar, avoiding eye contact, and there it was again—vulnerability in a killer package. “I hope I’m not bothering you. I know the mall’s not open, but I saw your car in the empty lot…” His comment died away in the silence.
She stuck her hands in her pockets. “It’s okay. I’m finishing up some paperwork. Have you heard from Ann?”
“No, but one of her neighbors had some information, and based on that, I’d like to ask a favor. You think your contact at the Fargo PD can help us find out who owns a white Lexus in town?”
She jotted down the information Zack had gleaned from Ann’s elderly neighbor and looked up to find him watching her with an expression that made her breath catch.
“Thank you.”
His gratitude warmed her from the inside out. She was speechless. Didn’t he have anyone to turn to? How could he not? He was intuitive, wildly charming when he wanted to be, not to mention unflappable in the face of scary unknowns. And Lord, he was hot-blooded. The man seethed passion. She sensed it churning under the cool chip-on-his-shoulder surface he presented to the world. She wanted to watch him erupt and stand under the geyser as it rained down.
