“I am. The bad guys rarely turn themselves in nowadays.” Alexis’s daughter rolled her eyes, the motion reminding him of their youth.
“I bet you’ve got a girlfriend, though, right?” Alexis gave him a smile.
McKenna’s beautiful face turned a lighter shade.
“Uh, no, I actually just got out of a semi-serious relationship.” Part truth, if ‘just’ meant a little over two years ago.
“Oh, that’s too bad. McKenna broke up with her boyfriend recently as well.”
“Mom.” McKenna’s eyebrows scrunched up and she crossed her arms. “Why is that automatically bad? Maybe he wanted out of that relationship.”
“Oh, honey, I didn’t mean it that way at all.” Alexis touched her daughter’s arm. “I just mean—”
“It’s okay,” he rushed in. “I know how you meant it, Mrs. Moore.”
McKenna turned and headed in the direction of the kitchen. “Whatever you’re making smells great,” trailed after her.
Alexis looked at her watch, then squeezed his arm. “Raphael should be down here any second. I’ve got to check on dinner. If I let her deal with it, we’ll all have food poisoning.” She hurried off in the direction her youngest child had gone.
“Jordan.” Raphael greeted him with a sturdy hand to his shoulder as they walked toward the dining room. “How is life treating you these days?”
“I can’t complain.”
He paused for half a second, an unreadable expression covering his face. “I’m not trying to raise your hackles, but out of curiosity, does Mr. Birmingham know you’re back in town?”
“Should he?”
“He bought a house a few streets down about a year ago.”
Raphael could have kicked him between the knees and it would’ve had less impact. “He shouldn’t be allowed inside any gated community.” Or near anyone Jordan cared about.
“My thoughts exactly.” He motioned for Jordan to sit down at the table. “We’ll talk more about that in a minute. Right now, I need your help with something else.” Raphael crossed his arms on the table and tapped his fingers against his arm.
“Sure. Anything.”
“We’ve always considered you family, Jordan.”
He struggled to remember he was twenty-nine. Not a kid. The last time he’d heard the ‘family speech’ had been when he’d let McKenna drive his car and she’d put a hole in the back of the garage.
“Alexis and I have been discussing this since you and I talked on the phone. We feel we can trust you.”
Jordan rubbed his palms on his pants. If Raphael only knew.
“You can say no, if you don’t feel comfortable with it, but you and McKenna are such good friends, I figure she’ll confide in you sooner or later.”
Jordan nodded. He could feel sweat forming on his upper lip. Maybe he should have heeded McKenna’s warning and declined their dinner invitation.
“We’re ninety-nine percent sure she got married in Las Vegas,” Raphael lowered his voice. “She’s been acting so strangely since she got back. We’re worried about her.”
Jordan could hear the women’s voices as they neared the dining room. He didn’t know which were louder, their footsteps or his heartbeat.
“I need you to find out who she married.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
McKenna would be lying if she said she couldn’t remember the last time she consciously thought about Jordan and his whereabouts.
Usually around this time of year, something would remind her of him, and of Cassidy Bening. With time, that day faded a little bit more, but she doubted she could erase it from her memory entirely.
Having Jordan back in their lives brought it all back, full force.
She pushed a carrot around on her plate, trying to pretend interest in the conversation buzzing around her at the dinner table. Neither one of her parents had looked this happy in a long time. Her dad cracked a joke about something Jordan had done as a kid and her mom laughed right along with the two of them. The prodigal son had returned, so to speak.
When he left all those years ago, a note stood in for his goodbye. That note, that spring and summer really, changed everything. There was a big difference between knowing she wanted to work for the FBI, stopping terrorism, child trafficking and catching serial killers, and actually doing it.
Piecing a crime together long after the original act was committed took more than what they taught you in college. Even Hogan’s Alley could only prepare a potential agent so much. An agent’s first assignment could make or break that agent depending on the nature of the crime and the unit he or she worked with.
She had been months away from beginning her first criminology course at Duke when Cassidy died. Years away from Hogan’s Alley.
Yet, so close to the crime. The murder, the death, the convicted. Not being able to discuss that day was something she and Jordan shared. He didn’t want to talk about it. She couldn’t.
“I took your mother some flowers on her birthday this last weekend, Jordan.” Her mother took a sip of water, then patted Jordan’s hand.
“I’m sure she would have liked them,” Jordan said.
“There was a display of calla lilies at the grave when I went. They were gorgeous. I especially liked the Murano glass vase. It was nice to see something besides your usual wreath at the site.”
His fingers curled around his fork in a death grip, the motion subtle, yet it still permeated the room with sudden stiffness. “I don’t get there often enough.” Emotionless syllables made up his words and sucked the laughter of minutes before, out of the room.
A heavy ball of dread landed in McKenna’s stomach.
Her mom opened and closed her mouth several times. Even her father, usually quick on his feet, said nothing. They both just watched and waited, tried to pick at the food on their plates as if it were more important than the past.
Jordan chewed the side of his lip as if he worked on exactly the right thing to say. He scanned the table and smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. If he stayed true to form, he’d pretend nothing was wrong. That they were crazy for reading more into a situation, which was little more than a scratch on a body filled with gaping wounds. Years ago, he had reacted similar before he disappeared.
After several months with no word from him, her parents hired a private investigator. The PI quickly ran into one dead end after another. The only information they’d ever received was that Jordan had graduated Sum Cum Laude from a college in Denver, but no longer lived in the state. He never sent a letter. No postcard. No pictures. Her parents worried nonstop.
She resorted to anger, most of which she spent fighting her way up the ranks. That anger had also pushed her toward Rupert.
If Jordan wanted in and out of their lives again, fine, but not until she had answers.
She grabbed the napkin in her lap and laid it on the table. “Mom, Dad, I’ll be out of your hair sooner than I thought.”
“What?” Her dad took his eyes from Jordan and stared at her. “Your townhouse isn’t ready yet.”
Something akin to relief filled Jordan’s face. He leaned back in his chair and smirked at her as if she had played right into his hand.
How nice of him to sit there and do nothing. First chance she got, she’d handcuff him to something solid in a cold, dark place. She stood. “Jordan, can I see you for a second? Alone?”
“Wait, just a minute, here.” Her father stood up so fast his chair fell to the hardwood floor with a loud thud. “If you think I’m going to let you move in with some man I’ve never met, you’re out of your mind.”
Jordan’s composure slipped a tiny bit. He shoveled a forkful of steamed carrots into his mouth.
“Who said I was moving in with a man?”
Jordan coughed a few times, then grabbed his glass and gulped down the contents.
“Excuse me?” The disbelief covering her father’s face cut a little deeper than she wanted to admit. “You want to explain that?”
&n
bsp; Only if she wanted to expound upon how her words were intended for her weeny, little boy husband. “Nope.”
“Everybody take a breath.” Jordan threw his napkin on the table and stood. “Let’s back up. McKenna, tell your dad you’re not moving in with anybody that he doesn’t know, man, boy, or woman.”
She couldn’t have started a bigger landslide if she’d blown up all of the Blue Ridge Mountains. They wanted an answer, a name, she could see it in both their eyes. Concern. Fear. They wondered what kind of trouble she had gotten into and how long it would be before she came clean.
“I love you both. Goodnight.” She headed for her room.
Jordan said something to both her parents, then caught up to her on the stairs. “What are you doing?”
McKenna pulled him inside her room and shut the door. “Trying to save you.”
“From what?” He leaned against the closed door.
“Seriously?” She folded her arms across her chest. “Go, ahead. Pretend no one noticed your reaction at the dinner table.”
“I’m not the topic of conversation right now.” Jordan pointed a finger into his chest, then leveled it in her direction. “You are.”
“If I hadn’t opened my mouth we would still be sitting down there in stiff silence.”
“I’m not the one who nearly gave both of them a heart attack.”
And the Worst Daughter Ever Award goes to: McKenna Moore. “What’s up with the flowers my mom mentioned?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s it? That’s all I get?”
“McKenna.” His gaze leveled on her. It wasn’t harsh or cold, but something else. Distant. Wary. “It’s nothing you need to be concerned with.”
“Uh-huh, heard that before. Ten years ago. Remember? You started acting as if someone was out to get you. Looking over your shoulder. Checking locks more than once. I confronted you about it.”
Jordan shrugged. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”
“I’ll refresh your memory. You were staying in the guest-house. Your mom had just died and my uncle sentenced to life in prison. You did exactly what you’re doing now. Avoiding the issue.” She expected him to confide in her all those years ago—he hadn’t. Still wouldn’t.
“And as usual, you’re pushing it. Anybody ever tell you to mind your own business? Besides, it was a long time ago. We’ve got bigger problems staring us in the face right now.”
His dead-on assessment took the wind right out of her sails. The shock on both her parent’s faces surfaced as she rubbed a hand down her face. “What was I thinking?”
A huge smile pulled out the dimples in his cheeks. “That you’d try to call my bluff.”
“No.” She grabbed a travel bag from under her bed. She hadn’t thought her words or their impact through. “I insinuated that I’m a lesbian.”
“Are you?”
She threw a pair of socks she’d grabbed from her dresser, in his direction.
Ducking, he managed to avoid the cotton bullet.
She dropped the rest of the underclothes she gathered and sank to the floor beside her bed. “My parents think I’m a lesbian and that I’m moving in with some chick. They’re probably down there figuring out a way to host an intervention. Probably have some therapist on speed-dial.”
She brought her knees to her chest and rested her elbows on top of them, both hands coming to her forehead and massaging. What a mess.
In a few strides, Jordan reached her side. With the toe of one shoe, he nudged a pair of underwear to the side and sat next to her. “Don’t worry, Slick. They know you better than that.” A warm hand found her back and rubbed. Her mind told her to pull away, while her body relaxed against his touch. Her eyes drifted shut and her problems ceased for a moment.
“Your dad asked me to unearth your mystery man.” His soft words broke the spell.
“I guess I should have expected that.”
Jordan removed his hand and looked at the pile at her feet and swallowed. Lacy underwear, a black bra and a bunch of paired socks was in plain view. Whoops.
Her stomach grew a healthy flock of butterflies as she scrambled to pick up everything. Then she shoved the items in her bag. “And you told him?” She let the question hang in the air.
He grinned. His dimples appeared. “I didn’t get a chance to say anything because you and your mom walked in with dinner.”
“I’m glad you think this is funny.”
“It’s not. I’m as somber as a priest at a funeral.”
McKenna couldn’t conjure up an image of one priest that looked like Jordan. Not even on his worst day. “Yeah. You look it.”
“What’s amusing is the fact that you think I’d blurt out the truth, without you present. Judging from what I know and what I just saw, your dad would probably get out one of his hunting rifles.”
“He’s a terrible shot.” She bit her lip, stifling a grin. Jordan hadn’t lost the ability to make her smile over random things. Being his friend had been one of the simplest, most rewarding things she’d ever experienced. But they weren’t kids any longer. And she didn’t know if they could become friends again. Or if she wanted to.
“I’m sure they already have a guess or two.” He looked around her lavender colored room. “Don’t you think they’d take it better hearing it from you first?”
“No. That ship sailed earlier today when my dad found your ring.”
“That explains everything. What are you doing?”
“Packing. We have a deal. Remember?” A smart woman would know how to talk her way out of this. No, a smart woman wouldn’t be in this position in the first place.
“McKenna, stop packing.”
Ignoring Jordan, she went into her walk-in closet and flicked on the light. An assortment of colors stared back at her, in a closet almost half the size of her bedroom.
He followed her. “Did you hear what I said?”
The closet became ten times smaller.
“Yeah. Sure.” She rifled through her clothing. Finding a hidden door to another universe amongst her wardrobe would be like striking gold. Maybe she would step through, shut the door, then break off the handle. The grass might be greener on the other side.
“McKenna.”
“What?” She couldn’t help glaring at him. He was messing up her fantasy world.
“You’re not listening, are you? Typical McKenna fashion, you’re gonna do what you think is best.”
“If that were true, you’d have a pen in your hand and divorce paperwork in front of you. Instead, I gave my word, and I’m going to follow through with it. I’d expect the same from you.”
He grabbed her, pulled her against him, and brought his lips down on hers.
If he intended to shock her, he couldn’t have picked a better way. Her mind went blank. Nothing existed outside of Jordan’s lips on hers. He smelled good again, a faint smell of sandalwood. Enough to tease her nose.
Maybe she should have pushed him away, but she couldn’t get her brain to work. Her arms circled his neck. She liked the soft hair at his nape and the way he took control of the kiss as if he couldn’t help himself. If she could get a little closer…
A groan came from deep in his throat and then he pulled away and stepped back. She touched her scorching lips. Heat rose into her face as she looked into his eyes. She expected to see a cocky grin and deal with an attitude that stated he knew exactly what to do to get her to forget everything. Instead, she found Jordan with confusion and frustration playing across his face, a blush on his cheeks as if he were desperate to hide it.
Wow. What was she supposed to do with that knowledge?
McKenna faked interest in a light pink cashmere sweater to his right. A shaky hand flipped through the hangers nearby. She licked her lips. They still tasted of him. A kiss had never affected her like that. Never.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you since I was nineteen,” he whispered.
What? Her eyes flew to his.
“I don’t want you
to move in with me until your parents know why.” Jordan leaned against the arch of the door, then shoved his hands in his pockets. “They deserve at least that.”
“I could leave them a note.” She added a smile to take the bite from her words.
“You could.” He didn’t look at all bothered by her comment. In fact, he had the gall to look as if he had no idea what she meant.
Deciding against anything that would start an all-out war with Jordan, she held her questions about the past in check. The last thing he needed to know was that she cried when he left. A memory she’d conveniently forgotten—until tonight.
She exited the closet, trying not to breathe in his scent as she passed him. “There’s got to be a solution here. One we’ll both be agreeable to.”
“I’m listening.” He followed her out and sat on her bed.
“I think we’ve both got a lot going on right now. You just took the ASAC job. My brother’s getting married in a week. We’ve got the Gaidies murder to solve. Not to mention, no matter what we decide about all of this, we are going to have to sit my parents down. For that, we’ll need a well thought-out plan to skirt around the exact details.”
Jordan leaned back on his hands. “So, you’re telling me you need time?”
“Don’t you?”
“Guys have needs, McKenna.” He patted the white comforter covering her bed and wiggled his eyebrows. “You know, I’ve always had this fantasy.”
Rage had her heart sinking like an elevator plummeting downward. Jordan was supposed to be different, not like every other guy out there. The smile she expected to see minutes earlier, surfaced. The pain of his disappearance and the previous weekend caught up with her, all in one rush. She clenched her fists and aimed for his face. He blocked her left jab. She sent her right hand sailing forward.
“McKenna.” He laughed. “I was kiddin—”
Her fist connected with his face. Jordan’s head snapped backwards. His eyes widened. He touched a finger to his nose, brought back blood. He didn’t say anything. Didn’t yell, but his face reddened.
LINKED (The Bening Files Book 1) Page 7
