by Jordan Dane
She gave Alexa the names.
“I’ll let you know what I find out,” the blonde said. “But hey, how come neither of you are eating?” She narrowed her eyes in suspicion.
“Oh, I never eat what she serves me,” Sam said without hesitating. “Not unless I brought it.”
Alexa shot an accusing stare to Jess. “Come to think of it, I never saw any salsa in your fridge. How’d you make this?”
“Malt-O-Meal and ketchup with a dash of Tabasco, the single girl’s best friend. You want me to write down the recipe?”
Alexa looked stunned. She stood with urgency in her eyes. “I think I’m gonna hurl.”
“Down the hall, first door on the right,” she said, as the blonde rushed by her.
Sam shook her head. “She can outrun explosives, but condiments take her down.”
“Yeah, a real lightweight.” She winked at Sam, but a knock at the door surprised her.
“Who could that be?” she wondered as she stood, glancing at Sam.
Focused on her life and keeping odd hours made it impossible for her to have a huge circle of acquaintances. Friends were a garden she didn’t have the green thumb to cultivate, despite her preaching to Harper how much he needed them. And after Lucas Baker had paid a call and trashed her place not too long ago, Jess felt the urge for caution and grabbed her gun.
In her world, old habits died hard, especially those stemming from self-preservation. She doused a nearby lamp and glanced out a side window, barely moving the curtain. She didn’t want to leave herself vulnerable by peering through the peephole, making her head an easy target for a shooter with a sick imagination.
She saw the silhouette of a man outside her door. It didn’t take long to recognize him. Not saying a word to Sam, she holstered her Colt Python and opened the door.
“We gotta talk, Jessie.” Seth Harper stood in her doorway.
Apparently he’d called a moratorium on voice mail and text messages. And she had to admit—looking into Harper’s sad, dark eyes—she felt the pull of their bruised friendship.
It was time to talk face-to-face, whether she was ready or not.
CHAPTER 14
Her day of reckoning had come, wearing worn jeans, a House of Blues tee, and sneaks.
Seth paced her living room as Jess ushered her guests out the door without much of an introduction. Sam would take Alexa back to her hotel. But before they left, she exchanged cell phone numbers with Alexa. If something came up, Jess wanted a way to contact her.
That left her alone to confront Harper. Despite his personal problems—the glitch of a manslaughter charge hanging over his head—she knew by the look in his eyes that he would finally tell her about his father.
And the reason he’d crossed her path in the first place.
Harper looked tired, in need of a good sleep. And his antsy behavior would have been contagious if she didn’t feel wrung out tired herself. She fought the urge to make this about him. After all, he was the one who had knowingly chosen to keep his secrets and betray their friendship. For her to forgive him now would depend entirely on what he had to say.
“You took a chance comin’ here. I could’ve slammed the door in your face.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time a woman had that notion.”
“Oh, Harper…I doubt that.” She stuffed her hands in her jeans. “Can I get you a beer?”
Harper had a dismal expression. And he hadn’t settled down since he walked through the door. He had something in his craw that needed to come out. And with an unrelenting glare, she wasn’t making it any easier on him.
That would have to change if she expected him to open up.
“No.” He shook his head, avoiding her eyes. “I just…”
She plopped down on her sofa and patted the seat next to her, taking a deep breath and reining back the attitude.
“Hey, you’re wearing me out,” she admitted. “You’re like a moving target in an arcade game. Sit down before I shoot you.”
“That might not be a bad idea. Put me out of my misery.”
“Nah, like I said before, Harper. You gotta have faith.” She could have told him the latest developments, but judging by his guilt-ridden face, Seth had something to say.
“Spit it out,” she said. “Just say it.”
An awkward silence filled the room as he slouched beside her, sprawled in the farthest corner of her sofa. He crossed his arms, still not looking her in the eye. It suddenly dawned on her that his outward appearance and easygoing attitude had been a wall he’d crafted to hide who he really was.
She’d thought she knew him, and that simply wasn’t true.
In the past, Seth sometimes refused to answer the occasional question she’d thrown him, but it had never seemed important for her to press him for answers. She’d always believed his basic nature was trustworthy. He was an open book, a simple guy who was easy to read. If he had something to hide, she thought she could always spot it lurking in his dark eyes. And all it would take to get him to open up would be persistence on her part.
But after learning about Harper’s connection to the man who had saved her life as a kid—and how well he had kept his secret from her—she realized Seth was far more complicated than she had ever given him credit for. She had to take off the blinders and see him in a different light.
She wasn’t sure she could do that.
“I had no intention of you finding out about my father that way. At my damned bail hearing. I’m sorry, Jessie.” He struggled for words. “I wanted to tell you. But when you were leaving for Alaska, Mandy hit a new low. She needed…someone.”
Before her unforeseen trek to Alaska, she remembered how lost and utterly alone Harper looked the day she came to him for help in tracking down Payton Archer’s missing niece. She knew something was up and even asked him about it, but he deflected her pointed questions about his personal life and changed the subject. And she’d been too distracted to push him. The hunt for Globe Harvest—the insidious organization behind the girl’s abduction—had heated up and taken all her concentration.
Backtracking to that moment, his behavior now made sense. It had seemed harmless at the time, and she hadn’t pressed him out of respect for his privacy. Her mind raced with all the other times he had been evasive about his life, but she tried to stay focused.
“But why did you disappear like that? Sam had to tell me you were gone over the phone, even before I came back. What happened?” She touched his thigh. The intimacy of her gesture got his attention. His eyes met hers and stayed. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice you were AWOL? Did you think I’d be okay with that?”
Jess was surprised at the hurt in her voice—and in her heart. She had made room in her life for Harper, and his disappearing act felt too much like rejection.
“You didn’t need me anymore. Not really. Maybe you never did, but Mandy had no one. And the men in her life always took from her.”
Harper was the kind of guy who took in strays of the two-legged variety. She wondered if that was all she had meant to him in the beginning, but questions about Mandy surfaced.
“Was she in more trouble, Seth? I mean beyond her self-inflicted bullet to the brain of using drugs. Did she ever mention being scared of someone?”
“She was so messed up, Jessie…because of her addiction and other stuff.”
“What other stuff?”
“Life, her boyfriend, everyone was out to get her. You know the drill with addicts. They’re paranoid and delusional.”
“Did she ever say anything about blackmailing someone?”
“No, but I doubt she would have told me if she was. I wanted her clean. And breaking the law wouldn’t be a part of that. Besides, I hadn’t talked to her in weeks, not until the night I was supposed to meet her. And I have no idea why she called me out of the blue like that. She never said.”
Harper was a regular Boy Scout. His good nature reinforced her judgment that he was a solid, well-meaning guy when it came
to others, but something else lurked deeper. Something personal that he was keeping from her. She could have accepted his explanation on its merits and gotten balled up in his angst over Mandy, but a major piece of the puzzle was missing.
“So why did you pick me…and Mandy? Does this have anything to do with your father, Seth?”
Jess held her breath, waiting for his answer. And by the look on his face, she knew what he had to say wouldn’t be easy to hear.
A flood of images from the day she was rescued filled her mind—an overload of horror that threatened to suffocate her. She struggled to picture the face of Detective Max Jenkins, Harper’s father. But all that came to mind were his strong hands and reassuring voice when he hauled her out of that house in his arms, freeing her from a living hell. She’d blocked too much from her memory. Even the good got jumbled into the bad. The torture. The muffled screams. Her abuser’s face. That house on High Street. It made her sad that she couldn’t recall Seth’s father—the man who had saved her life.
“You’ve got to understand, Jessie. My father was a hero to everyone…” He lowered his chin and muttered, “…to everyone except me.”
Harper shut his eyes tight until he could start over. It took courage to talk about an ugly truth, one he probably had never intended to share. The least she could do was listen without passing judgment.
“I never understood why he chose other people…over me. My mother tried to explain it, but after a while, she just stopped. I think she felt it, too.” His voice took on the sharp edge of resentment. The years hadn’t tempered his pain, something she understood. “He gave everything he had to the job. And there was nothing left. Not for me…or her.”
When his eyes watered, he took a breath and sank deeper into her sofa. Misery personified.
“I cut him out of my life, Jessie. A preemptive strike. A kid’s way of saving face, I guess.” He shook his head, unable to look her in the eye. “As a kid, I was so angry all the time. Somehow, I lost my place. I let my anger take over until I didn’t know who I was or where I fit anymore. It became easier to be alone.”
She understood what he meant, completely.
“And I wanted to distance myself from my old man, and changing my name seemed like a good idea at the time my parents got their divorce. After that, it got simpler to reinvent a whole new me.”
A tear lost its hold and trailed down his cheek. He never bothered wiping it away. “But my dad’s investigation…when he rescued you and those kids? That really ate him up. There wasn’t much left, especially after…”
“What happened, Seth? Tell me.” She reached for his hand and held it.
Guilt grabbed her. Until Seth’s bail hearing, she hadn’t thought about the man who’d saved her life—a self-preservation tactic. Those days of terror were buried deep in the damaged psyche of a child—only resurrected by the nightmares that still plagued her.
“My dad began to drink…a lot. Eventually, we noticed he’d changed. Doctors told us the alcohol masked the symptoms of dementia caused by a series of strokes. But by then it was too late. We had to hospitalize him. He needed long-term care.” He clenched his jaw. “I got used to him being absent from my life, but inside it still hurts, you know? And I never got a chance to really talk with him. Hell, I’ve got more baggage than Samsonite.”
She knew his attempt at humor was a defense mechanism, a familiar tactic she favored, too. But of all people, she saw behind it, recognizing the crack in the foundation of his life that would remain broken.
“I’ve never heard you mention family. I always got the sense you were alone, Seth. How’s your mom holding up?”
“She isn’t, not anymore.” He shook his head and squeezed her hand. “Mom died a year ago. And now my father’s care is my responsibility. Ironic, huh? He’s got no one else. Not really. So I’m taking time to sort things out.”
Seth had revealed a great deal, but she saw there was more.
“You’re not telling me something. What is it?”
For the first time, he fixed his gaze on her.
“Look, Jessie. This thing with my dad had been between him and me. But as his mind deteriorated, I had to find answers somewhere. I had to come to terms with it, but I want you to know the real reason I made contact with you…after all these years.”
“What do you mean…made contact?”
“I used my dad’s old case files to find you. I had your name and other information to track you down,” he finally admitted, and let go of her hand. “It was my only way to understand him. Don’t you see?”
“How did you get the Millstone files? That’s police property.” She asked the question, more out of shock than any real concern for police protocol.
“He kept copies of everything. He’d been obsessed with that case. As far as I know, it still haunts him, even in his condition.” He leaned forward and grabbed her arm after a tear slid down her cheek.
“Jessie, I needed to understand his fixation.” He brushed her tear away with a finger. “And the way I saw it, there was only one way to do that. I had to track down his kids, the ones he’d saved—to know my family’s sacrifice had been worth it.”
He let the revelation sink in, but when she only stared at him in disbelief, he added, “I’m not proud of why I did it, but, Jessie, I’m beginning to understand how he felt. It’s something I have to finish, so I can…let it go.”
“And Mandy? Was she…?” She fought the emotion welling in her throat, dreading his answer.
“Yes. She was part of your nightmare, Jessie. She was there…in that house. Mandy was one of my father’s kids.”
Jess shut her eyes and took a deep breath, desperately trying to stifle the sickening feeling that gripped her now. She tried digesting what he’d told her, to put it into perspective, but a stark image assaulted her mind like a virulent disease. The blurred face of a crank-addicted hooker—stabbed to death in a cheap motel room—suddenly shifted into focus.
And it was like looking in a mirror.
“We were both there…in that house?” She opened her eyes and stared past him, not really seeing Seth, only feeling his hands pulling her close. “Her life could have been mine.”
“No, Jessie. You survived. You were stronger than Mandy,” he insisted. “Hell, you’re the strongest person I know. I’ve never met anyone like you.”
Seth nudged her chin with his finger and fixed his dark eyes on her, forcing her to look at him. He brushed a strand of hair from her face and let his finger trail down her cheek. His tenderness had shocked her, but when he lowered his lips to hers—for an instant—she simply let go. His lips pressed to hers, a warm, comforting touch. She craved the intimacy. It felt right, and she gave in to the sensation, needing to be held. He pulled her to his chest and caressed her.
But eventually, the shock had worn off, and she realized what was happening. That was when she reacted.
“Seth, what are you…” Blood rushed to her cheeks, and she pulled away from him.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” Seth scrambled to his feet and stood. He backed away from the sofa and headed across the room. His face flushed pink.
Jess had never seen it coming. Had she misread what he’d done, made more out of it than was there? She replayed the moment in her head and found it hard to misinterpret what had happened.
Seth had kissed her. And damned if she hadn’t returned the favor.
CHAPTER 15
Chicago suburbs
Two hours later
Being the bearer of bad news about Seth Harper didn’t sit well with Ray Garza, but it was a hair better than sharing it over the phone. He hoped Sam Cooper would appreciate the difference.
With a hand on his steering wheel, he leaned forward and held up a note with an address scribbled on it. The light coming off a nearby streetlamp was enough to see the house number as he drove through the older residential neighborhood, a street lined with small, well-kept bungalows. He’d never been to Sam Cooper’s hous
e, but the homey street suited her.
One more block.
Nudging the gas pedal, he felt anxious about seeing her, a strange mix of feelings that were hard to unravel. Emotions were a black hole he had no patience for. Part of him couldn’t wait to see her—like a damned kid with a crush—but another side wished he were in better control. Hell, he was a seasoned cop. He should know better.
From the first day he’d seen her in the squad room, he had to stifle how he felt. And her being smart and a good cop made his infatuation worse. He wondered if she felt the same, but he didn’t trust his instincts where women were concerned. Taking things slow worked best. At least, that was what he told himself.
Ray knew he’d taken a risk coming to her home, when he could have called. But in his mind, a phone call wouldn’t cut it. Not with the news he had. It was late, but not completely out of line. He only wished he had a better reason for showing up on her doorstep.
He found her home and parked behind her vehicle in the drive. The small brick bungalow had interior lights coming from what he guessed was a living-room window with curtains drawn. The front stoop and the flower beds beneath the porch were lit. It reminded him of his parents’ place, when they were alive.
He hit the front buzzer, and she answered the door wearing jeans and a black CPD T-shirt, her hair in a ponytail. The word—CUTE—could have been stamped on her forehead without lying.
“Ray, what are you doing here?”
When she first saw him through the curtain, her heart leapt. She ran fingers across her hair and fiddled with her clothes—fighting the urge to stall until she could change. But that wasn’t going to happen. Sam prided herself on being a low-maintenance woman.
But that was before Ray Garza showed up on her doorstep.
“Hey, Sam. I was…ah…” He gestured over his shoulder, pointing toward his car, as if the vehicle had brought him against his will.
“You were in the neighborhood?”
