Within Striking Distance

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Within Striking Distance Page 9

by Ingrid Weaver


  “Who is she? Where is she?”

  “The woman I’m currently investigating is Becky Peters,” he said, pulling the photo from his pocket. “This is her in ’78. I won’t go into all the details now, but I think it’s worth doing the test.”

  “Sure. Of course. I’ll do whatever you need.” He peered at the picture. “Cute kid.”

  “That’s nothing. You should see her now.”

  “This is incredible. That baby could be my twin. Mom and Dad are going to be—”

  “Hold on, Kent. I don’t want to tell them yet. That’s why I asked you for the sample instead of your parents. As Gina’s twin, your DNA should provide a good basis for a match.” He returned the photo to his pocket. “I don’t want to get Dean and Patsy excited and then have it turn out to be a false alarm. Your mother concerns me the most. If Patsy got her hopes up and the test showed no match, it would be like losing Gina twice.”

  “I understand.” He looked toward the tower where his father was still talking with the crew chief. “Dad’s trying to be the strong one about all this, but I know he’s anxious, too. He blames himself for not looking harder after Gina disappeared.”

  “He shouldn’t. The police told him Gina was dead. They had to move on. It was the only healthy thing to do.”

  He regarded Jake once more. “I’m glad you came to me, Jake. I want to find my twin as much as everyone else, but I never even knew she existed until a few months ago. If the test shows no match, it’s not going to hit me like it would my parents.”

  “Thanks, Kent. I’ll make the arrangements and get back to you.”

  “Great.” Kent gave him a thumbs-up as he returned to his car. Minutes later, he was back on the track and roaring through the first turn.

  Jake remained at the picnic table to watch the action. Like the cars hurtling past, the events he’d just set into motion would be hard to stop. Was he jumping the gun with the DNA test? Possibly. Last week he’d told Becky he’d wanted to be more certain before he took the final step, but that had been before he’d felt her in his arms.

  He clenched his jaw as the memory flooded over him. He couldn’t understand why he kept thinking about it. He’d held plenty of women, and in far more intimate circumstances. Why had one fully clothed encounter in a dusty garage made such an impact? And why the hell had he decided to talk to her about it?

  He shouldn’t have brought the attraction into the open. He’d done a good job of keeping his feelings to himself until then, but his pride had gotten the better of him. He hadn’t wanted a young, beautiful woman like Becky to believe his bum leg had been the reason he’d cut short their embrace.

  So instead of simply walking away, he’d told her he’d wanted to kiss her. Uh-huh. That had been so much smarter.

  Which only went to prove that Jake couldn’t rely on his judgment with anything concerning Becky anymore. Luckily, DNA wasn’t a matter of judgment, it was science.

  “WE DO IT once more. I do not like the shadow.” The photographer barked instructions in Italian to his assistants, who scurried to adjust the reflectors at the edge of the set. The shoot was taking place in a studio rather than outdoors, which allowed more control of the lighting and more efficient clothing changes. It also meant less opportunity to move around. Becky used the delay to straighten up and stretch the ache out of her back.

  “Tired, bella?”

  She glanced at the model beside her. “I don’t have any complaints, Paulo.”

  “I do not, either. It has been purely pleasure working with you.”

  Somehow she restrained herself from rolling her eyes. Paulo had been coming on to her all afternoon. She suspected it was mainly to relieve the boredom between shots.

  “You are too warm, cara. Permit me to help before the maestro notices the dampness.” He pursed his lips and curled forward to blow lightly on her skin above her bikini top.

  Becky leaned back. “Give it a rest, Paulo.”

  “I only want to dry your skin. We do not want more delays while makeup is called.”

  “Well, thank you. That’s a wonderfully selfless gesture. But in case it escaped your attention, we’re modeling swimwear. We’re supposed to be damp.”

  He smiled, showing her his perfect teeth. Even amid the collection of perfect bodies and faces that had been assembled for this project, he was startlingly good-looking: dark, brooding eyes, sharply defined features and thick, black hair that was slicked boldly back from his forehead. He gestured to the six-pack abs that graced his torso. “Perhaps you could help me, as well. These lights make me hot but your hands are cool. If you could rub me here…”

  “You’re original, I’ll give you that.”

  “What else will you give me, bella?”

  “Advice. You’re wasting your time.”

  “No time with you could be wasted.”

  “Does that Latin lover act actually work on anyone, Paulo?”

  “It does.” He winked. “I will be happy to provide references if you wish.”

  She bit her lip. She didn’t want to laugh or it would only encourage him. She was saved from having to respond by the art director, who used a mangled mixture of languages to order everyone back into position.

  Paulo immediately slipped his arm behind her waist and propped his chin on her shoulder. She smiled for the camera. The pose was tame and not suggestive in the least. It was meant to display the swimwear in an atmosphere of friendliness and fun. Becky suspected there was a grain of truth in Paulo’s bragging, because there likely were plenty of women who would enjoy having his spectacular body so close to theirs.

  Yet the contact did nothing for her. No tingles, no shivers of awareness, nothing other than mild irritation with the way the fashionably macho beard stubble on Paulo’s chin was abrading her skin.

  Now, if it had been Jake standing next to her like this, practically naked and breathing on her neck…

  Oh, yes, that would definitely do something for her. She could only too clearly imagine what the sculpted muscles that she’d felt through his sleeves would feel like against her skin. She didn’t think it would bother her to feel his beard stubble against her neck, either. Even better, what if it was first-thing-in-the-morning stubble and he was waking her up with a nuzzling kiss?

  She inhaled unsteadily, surprised by the rush of heat. She’d thought that distance would give her some perspective. Everything Jake had said about her being emotional and vulnerable had been right. A crush should have faded, especially now that she was immersed in her work. She needed all the contracts she could get if she was going to boost her savings. Although the investments she’d chosen had been performing beyond her expectations lately, she still needed more before she could open her own business.

  Yet from the time she’d arrived in Italy, all she could think about was how soon she could go home.

  “NICOLE! What are you doing here?”

  “Waiting for you. How was your flight?”

  “Completely ordinary,” Becky said, still trying to absorb the fact Dr. Nicole Foster was at Charlotte-Douglas International Airport. She’d been friends with Nicole almost as long as she’d been friends with Tara, but neither one had ever met her at the airport after one of her modeling jobs. Why would they? Becky’s trips were routine.

  She peered at her friend more closely. Nicole looked well. More than well. She looked fabulous, as usual. Becky had always admired her combination of red hair and blue eyes, characteristics that were made all the more striking by the energy that simmered beneath the surface. Yet was that a hint of tension around her mouth? “Nicole, is something wrong?”

  “Relax, everything’s fine. Where’s your luggage?”

  Becky tipped her head toward the carry-on bag that hung from her shoulder. She’d learned to travel light when she was working—most of the time she wore clothes provided by the client and the rest of the time she preferred easy-care, packable knits. “This is it.”

  “Great,” she said. She checked her w
atch, then turned and started walking. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Becky followed on her heels as they worked their way through the crowd. “Nicole, it’s really nice of you to meet me like this. Don’t get me wrong. It’s always great to see you, but I don’t remember even telling you which flight I’d be on.”

  “You didn’t. Jake McMasters did.”

  “Jake?” She looked around quickly, half expecting—no, half hoping—to see him. “Why would he—” She halted, her hand going to her mouth. “Oh, God. Is he all right? Did something happen?”

  “Will you relax?” Nicole caught her arm and urged her to start moving again. “He’s fine. It’s interesting that you’d be so worried about him, though. Why is that?”

  “I…Don’t change the subject. Why are you here?”

  “I’ll fill you in when we get to my car.”

  It wasn’t until they had left the lot and joined the afternoon traffic on the parkway to the city that Nicole finally could devote her attention to Becky’s questions. “Jake called me a few days ago,” she said. “He told me that you gave him my name.”

  “What? I don’t remember…” Becky thought about it. She had indeed mentioned Nicole to Jake. The man must have an exceptional memory. “Oh, right. Well, that explains how he knew who you were but not why you’re here. Are you deliberately dragging this out and acting mysterious just to make me crazy?”

  Nicole grinned and gave her a sideways glance. “You know me too well.”

  “Nicole,” Becky said, twisting on the seat to face her. “I’m hungry and I’m jet-lagged and used up my quota of patience on a certain overly amorous hunk of walking ego, so—”

  “Ooo, that sounds delicious. Who was he?”

  “His name was Paulo but don’t change the subject. Need I remind you that I’m bigger than you?”

  She laughed. “Not by much.”

  “Nicole…”

  “All right, all right. Jake called me because you already volunteered my help as a doctor. He wants me to take some DNA samples.”

  It took her a few seconds to process what she’d heard. She dropped her head against the headrest, stunned. “Jake wants a DNA test to see if I’m Gina.”

  “Yes.”

  Her mind was spinning. “This is so fast. When I left he was still being cautious about it. He said he didn’t want to have the test done until he was more certain.”

  “Oh, he’s still being cautious. He tried to play it down.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When we first met at my office, we got to talking about how I do weekend work at NASCAR races and I mentioned that my father was an itinerant doctor in Tennessee. You know, how my dad took jobs filling in for other doctors while they were on sabbatical or vacation?”

  “Sure, I remember. You talked about that when the story of Gina’s kidnapping broke.”

  “Well, Jake pointed out that my father could have been working at the hospital in Nashville when the Grosso twins were born. I’m the right age, too. He said for all we know, I could be Gina.”

  Becky did her best to squash the resentment she felt. She knew that until they had proof, Jake would have to continue considering every possibility. That was what the Grossos had hired him for. He had every right to look at another woman as a potential Gina. That didn’t mean he was being disloyal to Becky, it meant he was doing his job. He’d made it perfectly clear before she’d left that their relationship would remain professional.

  “Not that I am,” Nicole said.

  “What?”

  “Gina. That’s reaching. You look a lot more like the Grossos than I do. I look like my father. Anyway, I think Jake was going out of his way to demonstrate he’s still keeping an open mind. If you ask me, I’d say he’s concerned about you getting your hopes up.”

  Becky sighed. “That sounds like Jake, all right. He takes caution to a whole different level.”

  Nicole took her hand from the wheel and squeezed Becky’s knee, then flipped on her signal and steered toward the exit. “I’m concerned, too. I know how important finding your birth family has always been to you. At the same time, I’ve been so excited to be part of this, it’s been hard waiting for you to get home.”

  “Thanks, Nicole.” She took note of the exit they were heading for. “I take it we’re going straight to your office now.”

  “It was the only time we could arrange that worked with everyone’s schedules. Do you mind?”

  Becky assured her that she didn’t. In a way, she was glad that Jake hadn’t warned her earlier, because by the time they pulled into the parking lot of the clinic where Nicole worked during the week, Becky was already feeling too antsy to wait. They went through the rear entrance of the building and down a short hall to Nicole’s office.

  Jake was already there. He rose from his chair when they entered the room, his gaze meeting Becky’s. He smiled. “Welcome back.”

  A week apart hadn’t made any difference, Becky realized. Nor had being around some of the world’s most beautiful people. Jake’s crooked smile, his finger-combed hair and his plain, faded chambray shirt looked so good, so familiar, she wanted to walk straight into his arms.

  But then the man who had been sitting in the chair beside Jake’s got to his feet and turned to look at her.

  Becky didn’t need an introduction—she recognized him instantly. Kent Grosso’s face was well-known to every NASCAR fan. Yet he wasn’t here because of what he did for a living. He was here because he could be her twin brother.

  That’s when the significance of what was happening hit Becky full force. After so many years of dreaming about it, she could finally be meeting a member of her family. She barely heard what Nicole was saying. Instead, she moved toward Kent and extended her hand.

  He clasped it immediately, studying her as openly as she was studying him. “You’re almost as tall as me,” he said. “And your hair’s nearly the same color as our mother’s…I mean, if you’re…” He smiled. “Does this feel as weird to you as it does to me?”

  She laughed. “Yes! I don’t know what I should say to you. Other than thanks for agreeing to the test.”

  “It’s no trouble. They promised it would be painless.”

  “That’s right,” Nicole said, snapping on a pair of gloves. She peeled paper wrapping from a long swab and gestured to Kent. “All you need to do is say ‘ah.’”

  Nicole swabbed the inside of Kent’s cheek, placed the sample in a plastic vial and sealed it, then repeated the process with Becky. She inserted both vials in a padded envelope that she took from her desk, added a sheaf of paperwork and sealed the flap.

  For something that could have a profound impact on Becky’s life, the procedure had seemed far too simple.

  “I’ll drop this off at the lab on my way home,” Nicole said, looking at Jake. She handed him a thin sheet of yellow paper. “Here’s your copy of the test form.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate your help, Nicole,” Jake said. “And your discretion.”

  She smiled at all three of them. “It was my pleasure.”

  “When do you think we’ll get the results?” Kent asked.

  “I’ve asked the lab to give it priority,” Nicole replied. “But I can’t promise anything. It could be weeks before they get around to it.”

  Kent looked at Jake. “So, what do we do now?”

  “There’s nothing much we can do except wait for the scientists to do their job,” he said. “My part in this is over.”

  And that’s when the rest of what was happening hit Becky. The DNA test was the final step in Jake’s investigation. There would be no point for him to investigate her further. If the results showed she wasn’t a match with Kent, Jake would move on to the next Gina claimant. If it did show a match, he could close his case. Either way, their association would end.

  “Becky?” Jake asked. “Are you all right?”

  She forced a smile. “Sure, just jet-lagged.”

  This should be one of the happi
est moments of her life, Becky told herself. She could be on the road to joining the family of her dreams. That was what she wanted, wasn’t it?

  Well, wasn’t it?

  CHAPTER SIX

  “ALL RIGHT,” Becky shouted, pumping her fist in the air. “That’s how you do it. Go, Kent!”

  Jake added his voice to the cheer that went up from the group around them as Kent nosed into the lead. He held it for three laps, although Zack Matheson remained on his tail, vying for an opening that Kent was too savvy to give him. Kent and Zack had just flashed past again when the crowd gave a collective gasp. Somebody farther back in the pack blew a tire in a puff of smoke. The caution flag came out. While the drivers throttled back and held their positions, the Chicago track crews scurried to pick up the debris.

  Becky took advantage of the drop in the level of engine noise to speak without having to shout. From their vantage point near the entrance to pit road they had a great view of Turn Four and the straightaway, but it brought them close enough to feel the vibrations of the engines through the soles of their feet. “What’s that?” she asked. “The sixth caution?”

  “Seventh,” Jake said. “I figured it would be bad in this heat. Are you okay? You want to find some shade?”

  She tipped the brim of her hat to shield her face from the sun and craned her neck to keep track of Kent’s car. “Maybe later. I love being this close to the action. It was really nice of Kent to arrange a hot pass for me.”

  Before they had left Nicole’s office the other day, Kent had offered to obtain an infield credential for Becky for this race. Jake had been concerned there would be questions from the Grossos about who she was that would be difficult to answer. But after one look at the pleasure on her face from Kent’s offer, he hadn’t had the heart to object. As it turned out, he’d worried for nothing. They’d simply told anyone who asked that Becky was Jake’s friend.

  It wasn’t really a lie. Jake did like Becky. He enjoyed her company. That he also desired her would be a big complication to a potential friendship, but it was one he should be able to manage.

 

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