Swallowing a grunt of resignation, Gideon left the little houseboat that had been his home for the past seven years. His thoughts once again turned toward Colleen Jensen. Before he agreed to take on the case of the missing Sam Baker, he intended to do a little checking up on the attractive Ms. Jensen. There was one thing he had learned in his life…trust nobody. And the last person in the world he would ever trust was a gorgeous damsel in distress with haunting blue eyes.
He grinned, then sobered just as quickly. He had to do something about Eddy. If he didn’t take control of that particular situation quickly, he had a feeling Fast Eddy would be moved in, lock, stock and barrel, before Gideon could blink an eye.
As he thought of sharing his private space with the eager, talkative teen, his headache throbbed full force. It looked like it was going to be one of those days.
“Amy, I’m so proud of you.” Colleen praised the young woman who sat in front her, a baby in one arm and a toddler hanging on to her knees. “Getting your high-school equivalency is the best gift you can give yourself.”
The young woman smiled shyly. “My next goal is to get a good job. My mom has agreed to watch the kids for me so I can work and get a better place to live. I want to get out of that tiny apartment, maybe find something with a yard for the kids.”
“It sounds like you’re making good choices.” Colleen smiled, noting that both children were clean and looked well-fed. She hoped this woman, at seventeen, little more than a child herself, and her children would be one of the success stories.
“Well, I guess that does it for now.” Colleen closed the file folder and stood up. “I’ll be in touch over the next couple of weeks. Don’t hesitate to call if you or the children need anything.”
She escorted the woman out of the small office, then went back to her desk and flopped down in exhaustion. Looking at her watch, she realized it was nearly two. She’d worked through lunch…as usual.
She looked up as a knock sounded, and then her door opened. Smiling at the older woman who peeked in, Colleen gestured to the chair in front of her desk. “Margie, come in and take a load off.”
Margie Mayfield, Colleen’s co-worker and friend, walked in and perched one slender hip on the edge of Colleen’s desk. “I saw Amy leaving. She doing all right?”
Colleen smiled. “She’s doing terrific. She got her GED yesterday.”
“Good for her.” Margie shook her head, her shoulder-length strawberry-colored hair dancing with the motion. “Chalk one up for the good guys. Hard to believe a year ago we thought we were going to have to take her kids away from her.”
Colleen grinned. “But isn’t it nice to have a success story for a change?” As social workers dealing with child protection and rights, Colleen and Margie saw far too few success stories.
“My real question is, did you hire that private eye guy I told you about?”
Colleen’s smile instantly passed as she thought of her early morning visit to Gideon Graves. “I stopped by and spoke to him this morning.” She’d consciously kept thoughts of him at bay since arriving at the office, but now her mind filled with the memory of the big man, with his wild hair and scandalously tight cotton sweatpants. “I have to confess, I wasn’t real impressed. He lives on a houseboat, and it was a complete mess.”
Margie shrugged. “Why do you care if he lives in a mess? You don’t want him to live with you, you just want him to find Sam.”
Yes, desperately, Colleen wanted him to find Sam. It had been months since she’d seen him, talked to him, known that he was all right. The circumstances surrounding Sam’s disappearance were horrifying, and a hollow ache pained Colleen’s heart.
“So what did you tell this private eye?”
“Not much,” Colleen admitted. “I just told him Sam had disappeared. He thinks Sam’s my lover.”
Margie scowled. “You should have told him the truth.”
Colleen felt the heat that rose to her face. “I’ve hired three other detectives, and when they found out I’m Sam’s sister and part of the Baker dynasty, their prices tripled, and I still got no results. They took advantage of me because I’m a Baker, and I’m not going to let that happen again.”
“Don’t you think Gideon Graves will discover the truth? That you aren’t Sam’s lover, and that Sam is a fugitive from justice because he’s suspected of the murder of your father?”
“If he’s any good, he’ll eventually find all that out. But I’m not convinced the man I spoke to this morning could find his way out of a paper sack,” Colleen said dryly.
“Everyone I’ve spoken to told me he’s the best of the bunch.”
Colleen smiled. “But being the best of the bunch isn’t saying much if the rest of the bunch is all rotten.”
Margie laughed and stood up. “I just hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Of course I do,” Colleen answered firmly. It wasn’t until Margie left the office that Colleen admitted to herself she had absolutely no idea what she was doing.
All she did know was that she had to do something to try to find Sam. Her brother’s absence in her family’s life was a daily heartache.
She got up from her desk. Over the past few months, her life had been a roller-coaster ride, with dizzying highs and horrifying lows. The horror had started with the murder of her father. He’d been found dead in his office at the Baker Enterprises building, and an eyewitness had reported seeing Sam running from the scene of the crime. In one fell swoop, Colleen had lost both her father and her brother. Although there was no doubt in her mind that Sam hadn’t committed the crime, she didn’t understand why he didn’t come back and defend himself against the accusations and speculation.
She stared out her office window, the Bay Shore and Long Island marina barely visible in the distance. If she was just a little bit closer, she would be able to see Gideon Grave’s rickety houseboat. She frowned as she remembered the vessel. By the looks of it, she was surprised it was seaworthy. If Gideon Graves was one of the best, he certainly didn’t live like a success.
Still, Margie was right. Colleen didn’t care if Gideon Graves lived in a hole in the ground, if he could only help her.
Would Gideon Graves finally get her some answers about her brother? She certainly didn’t feel particularly optimistic about the bloodshot-eyed, wild-haired detective. He’d looked like he’d been on a month-long drunk and resented getting sober.
Turning away from the window, she reached up and touched the necklace that hung around her neck. Her fingers closed around the charm in the shape of the mythical phoenix. Her father had given one to each of his children right before his death. Clasping it in her fingers should have sent sorrow and grief for her father sweeping through her, but it was hard to grieve for a man who’d been little more than a distant stranger to his youngest child.
It had been Sam who had kissed her childhood booboos and given her heartfelt advice. It had been her big brother who had soothed her fears and dried her tears. She’d been closer to him than to either of her sisters. His absence from her life had left a gnawing black hole in the center of her heart, a hole she feared would never be filled again.
Whatever it took. She would do whatever it took to find Sam. Even if it meant dealing with a man like Gideon Graves. Shivering slightly, she moved away from the window, her thoughts once again filled with visions of the private investigator.
She didn’t exactly have a wonderful opinion about private investigators. Her brief experiences with the three she had previously hired had been horrendous. Still, Gideon Graves hadn’t been what she’d expected. The other three she’d subsequently fired had all been older, softer. Gideon was definitely different.
He’d filled the small confines of the houseboat with his presence, a presence that radiated undeniable masculinity and an underlying hint of danger. But was he any good? Would he be able to get her some answers about Sam or would he just make empty promises as the others had and suck as much money as possible out of her? Only
time would tell.
She sank down on her chair behind her desk, her gaze once again drifting out the window. She was desperate enough, hurting enough that at this point she’d throw her lot in with the very devil himself if he could find Sam. What she didn’t understand was why, when she thought of working with Gideon Graves, she had the distinct feeling she’d done just that.
Chapter Two
Gideon slid farther down in the seat behind the steering wheel, staring at the ornate iron gates that led to the elusive Sam Baker’s house.
Sam Baker was obviously a wealthy man…wealthy enough to maintain a fairly fancy house. It was an older, two-story home that whispered of wealth rather than shouted it. The grounds behind the gate were well-kept, furthering the aura of a carte-blanche existence.
Even if Colleen hadn’t told him, it had been easy to discern that Sam was married. The mailbox had the names Mr. and Mrs. Sam Baker on it. A tricycle in the driveway was mute evidence of a child or children. So, Sam Baker had a wife and child, and apparently a mistress who missed him desperately.
Gideon frowned as his mind filled with the memory of Colleen Jensen. Why would a woman with her good looks and intelligence settle for half a life with a married man? Why would she want the back streets, stolen moments and borrowed happiness of being a mistress? Money. The obvious answer came unbidden to his mind.
Shifting positions to ease cramping legs, he reached into the glove box and grabbed a piece of licorice. Once again he settled back against the seat. He’d never understood what motivated women to become involved with married men. Or single men to become involved with married women. Personally, Gideon considered himself far too selfish for such a relationship. He would never settle for sharing. Besides, he believed in fidelity. He might have made a lot of mistakes in his failed marriage, but cheating wasn’t one of them.
He finished the licorice stick and reached for another. This was the part of his job he hated, the sitting, waiting, watching. Unfortunately, he had yet to figure out a better, more efficient way to get the facts he needed. And right now what he needed to figure out was exactly what Colleen Jensen wanted.
One thing Gideon had learned early in this life was that people were rarely honest, and there were always ulterior motives hidden beneath their surfaces. Colleen had maintained that she wanted Sam found because she loved him, but Gideon had seen the whisper of secrets in the depths of her eyes, secrets that had intrigued him.
He straightened in the seat as he saw a police car cruising toward him. The car moved slowly, then parked at the curb in front of the Baker residence, directly across from where Gideon was parked.
Terrific. Gideon groaned, wondering if one of the neighbors had called him in as a suspicious car and occupant. As the officer in the passenger side of the car got out and approached him, he groaned again, immediately recognizing the arrogant walk and sharp features of the uniformed man.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Long Island’s fallen angel.”
Gideon smiled tightly. “Good morning, Ed. What brings Suffolk County’s finest to this neck of the woods?”
The officer shrugged. “This and that.” He eyed Gideon speculatively. “What about you?”
Gideon mimicked him. “This and that.” Officer Ed Sanders had been one of the initial fellow officers to turn his back on him when Gideon had been on the force and the first of the ugly rumors had surfaced. Although three years had passed since that time, Gideon rarely forgave, and he never forgot.
“You working on the Sam Baker case?” Although the question was asked nonchalantly, Gideon knew Ed well enough to know he never did anything casually.
“Maybe.” Gideon was an old hand at poker playing and knew his features didn’t indicate his surprise that the police were interested in the elusive Sam Baker. “You know where he is?”
Ed snorted. “I wish. If we knew, we wouldn’t be running surveillance here every time things get slow.” He leaned against the car door, a pleasant smile on his face. “So, who’s your client?”
Gideon laughed. “Now, Ed, you know I can’t tell you that.”
Ed’s ferret features twisted in mock surprise. “Ethics? Why, Gideon, I didn’t know you had any.”
Gideon laughed again, ignoring the burn of resentment in his chest. “Go to hell, Ed.” He started the car and put it into gear. He inched forward, forcing the officer to step back from the door. “See you around, Ed,” he called out the window as he pulled away from the curb.
“Damn,” he exclaimed as he hit his palm against the steering wheel. It was obvious Ms. Sexy Legs had left out some important facts in the information she’d provided him.
He cursed himself as well as her. Generally, he did preliminary investigations at the library, the courthouse, wherever he thought he could get background information on the subject. However, when he’d left the house, his headache had still raged, and he’d decided to go to the address provided by Colleen and simply get his own impressions of the subject’s home.
Obviously Sam Baker was more than just a missing person. Typically, missing persons didn’t garner police surveillance on their homes. So, what exactly had Legs forgotten to tell him?
Nearly two hours later, he had many of the pieces filled in. Gideon turned off the microfilm machine and reared back in his chair, trying to decide what to do.
The library was relatively empty. Other than himself and the dour-looking librarian, an old gentleman thumbing through magazines was the only person present.
The silence was conducive to thought, and Gideon’s brain raced with the information he’d just gleaned. Sam Baker was not just missing, he was a fugitive from the law. The newspaper articles had named him the main suspect in the death of his father, Joseph Baker. Joseph Baker hadn’t been just an ordinary, hardworking citizen. He’d been the head of a multimillion-dollar industry. Now the police presence outside Sam Baker’s home made more sense.
What didn’t make sense was why Colleen Jensen had neglected to add this little tidbit of information to her notes. A rather glaring omission, Gideon thought wryly.
Perhaps it was time to do a little digging into Colleen Jensen. For all he knew, that wasn’t her real name. She could be anyone, even a police officer on the case, stymied by a lack of leads and willing to do anything to break the case…even make a pact with the fallen angel of Long Island.
The fallen angel of Long Island. Gideon’s stomach clenched as he remembered Ed’s words. He’d known that was how most of the members of the police department referred to him behind his back. The fallen angel. The tarnished badge. The one who went bad.
His whole career as a police officer had blown up in his face, leaving him bitter, angry and a much smarter man. The beginning of the end had been when he’d met Anne. Amazing how blind love could be, how it twisted beliefs, skewed vision and caused bad choices.
The biggest mistake of his life had been falling in love. It was a mistake he never intended to repeat. Shoving aside the unpleasant memories, he stood up, deciding it was time to get back to work.
Colleen uttered a grateful sigh as she pulled into the driveway of the duplex she owned. She smiled as she saw Mrs. Blankenship, the elderly widow who rented the other half of the building, watering the remains of the late summer flowers that bordered the front of the structure. God bless Elda Blankenship. Her green thumb kept the front of the building resplendent with color.
Getting out of her car, she greeted the older woman with a smile and a wave. “Evening, Elda.”
“You worked late again, Colleen. You’re too young and pretty to spend so many hours at work.” Elda leaned down and turned off the spigot, then efficiently wrapped the garden hose into a neat little circle.
“I love my job,” Colleen answered, knowing what Elda’s next statement would be. This was a conversation they had often. From anyone else it would have irritated Colleen, but she knew Elda’s sole motivation was genuine affection.
“A job won’t keep you warm on cold win
try nights,” Elda observed, just as Colleen had anticipated she would.
She smiled. “No, but an electric blanket will, and it won’t give me any grief.”
Elda chuckled and shook her head. “You’re a stubborn one, Colleen Jensen.”
“I suppose I am,” Colleen replied grudgingly. She reached into the car to gather the files she’d brought home, then slammed the car door.
“Before you go inside, I’ve got something for you.” Elda disappeared into her half of the duplex and returned a moment later with a paper bag that smelled of cinnamon and yeasty dough. “I baked this morning, and I know how much you love my cinnamon knots.”
Colleen gave the woman a quick hug, as always thanking her stars that she’d found such a wonderful tenant. “Thank you, you’re much too good to me,” she exclaimed as she released Elda.
Elda smiled. “Somebody needs to be good to you, you certainly aren’t good to yourself.” She looked pointedly at the files Colleen held in her arms. “You look tired. You’d be better off forgetting that work and going straight to bed.”
“I just might do that,” Colleen agreed, then telling her neighbor goodbye, she unlocked her front door.
When she stepped inside, the hues of twilight seeping in through the windows painted the living room in warm, golden tones. It was good to be home. She immediately turned on the lamp next to the sofa, knowing that at this time of the year, twilight didn’t last long and darkness fell quickly.
Throwing the files and the paper bag from Elda on the polished surface of the coffee table, she sank down on the sofa and kicked off her shoes. Perhaps Elda had a good idea. Maybe Colleen should just forget working tonight and go to bed. She was exhausted.
She reached for the bag, the scent of cinnamon once again wafting. Her stomach rumbled in hunger, reminding her she’d skipped lunch. She reached inside the bag, pulled out one of the baked sweets and bit into it, thinking once again of the frantic work schedule she’d been keeping.
What Elda didn’t understand, couldn’t understand about Colleen’s work was that it had been her escape, her sanity. At least while dealing with clients, reading case files and making important decisions, she couldn’t think about Sam.
An Impromptu Proposal Page 2
