The Business of Strangers

by Kylie Brant

  But the inescapable fact remained that Luz was still dead. And despite the mystery still puzzling Fenton County residents, so were Rianna Kingsley and Karen Starkey. Somehow, when she’d imagined the conclusion of this chapter of her life, it hadn’t ended with her donning yet another identity, this time as Andrea Clauson. Running once more.

  The waves were stronger now, tugging at the edge of her simple white lace shift. Absently, she gathered up material in both hands to rescue the garment from the water. It had been at Jake’s insistence that she’d run again, and, dazed and reeling, she’d allowed him to bully her into the car he’d had waiting. Had sat unresisting while he bit out orders about her retrieving her sets of ID and taking his jet to an estate he had on Jamaica. Neither of them had been able to foresee the repercussions once Hendricks was out of the picture.

  The memory of Jake seared a path across her heart. She hadn’t been willing to sacrifice him when the fallout from the Pegasus team came to light. So she’d used her skill, ID and money to walk away from his estate one night and make her way to South America. If it meant she never saw him again, at least she could make certain that Samson would never be able to hurt him to get at her.

  And she could almost convince herself that she could live without the prospect of seeing him again if she could just be certain he was safe.

  But news of Jake Tarrance had been much more difficult to come by than reports of Secretary of Defense Samson. There had been nothing in the media regarding him, although she’d combed the Internet and Columbus newspapers daily. A few weeks ago she’d found reference to the release of Enrico Alvarez from Donaldson Prison, however.

  While it would be soothing to believe that no news meant Jake was probably still alive, she knew better than most how easily some people could disappear without it raising any questions.

  Had he gone underground to play a deadly cat and mouse game with Alvarez? Or had he engaged the man in one last lethal battle and lost? This was the hardest question of all to face, because she was only too aware it might never be answered.

  Shading her eyes with her hand, she turned to look back up the beach. Seeing how far she’d roamed, she started back again. The answers she’d been seeking about her past for so long were just that, answers. They relieved her mind, not her pain. They changed nothing, much as she’d predicted to Jake. And discovering them had emptied her life of direction.

  Without the search that had driven her for so long, she often felt as though she was just floating along, waiting for life to happen. And it was time for that to stop. She’d felt like a spectator of other people’s lives for far too long. It was time for her to carve out one of her own, even if she couldn’t yet decide what it would entail.

  Even though she was certain it wouldn’t include the only man she could imagine sharing it with.

  Ria paused to watch the brilliant ball of crimson sink into the sea. But she wasn’t so lost in the sight that her instincts failed to warn her she was no longer alone. She looked over her shoulder to see a man in the distance walking toward her. It was impossible to see his features from here, but his stance was familiar. She frowned. It wouldn’t be unusual for Carlos to seek her out and try to coax her into taking his shift tomorrow if he’d found a tourist that caught his eye.

  But in the glow of the fading sunset, she could almost convince herself that it wasn’t Carlos. That this man was taller, broader, and walked with a sense of purpose that was absent in the flirtatious security guard. It was as if, on cue, her mind had conjured up a mirage of Jake Tarrance, to reflect the focus of her thoughts. She knew the illusion would vanish in the blink of an eye, so she stared, watching the man’s face take on detail as he came closer. It was harmless enough, even as she recalled that Jake was most likely… Her mind skirted the word dead. But if alive, he had no way of knowing where she was. And less reason for following her.

  The man drew closer. He was barefoot, his black pants rolled to midcalf, the sleeves of his white shirt pushed up. Sunglasses obscured his face. She closed her eyes, opened them again. She really couldn’t fault her mind for playing tricks on her, because this man did resemble Jake, down to the swept-back dark hair and well-formed mouth.

  Ria’s breath caught in her throat. As he closed the distance between them she could see the thin white scar darting across his cheekbone, beneath the glasses. She grappled with disbelief. Because it was Jake Tarrance, appearing against a spectacular backdrop of color that contrasted sharply with the shadows he’d disappeared into when they’d parted. Her gaze raced over him hungrily. With the exception of a slight limp, he didn’t appear any different.

  Joy sprinted through her, so pure and strong it nearly dizzied her. Amazement wasn’t far behind. But neither emotion was reflected in the first mundane words to escape her. “How did you find me?”

  The corner of his mouth quirked, and his pace quickened. “Damned if I didn’t guess that’d be the first thing you’d say to me.” He reached up to remove the sunglasses, and his pale blue gaze did a slow, thorough scan of her form that had her nerve endings prickling. Upon reaching her his arms snaked out, pulling her into an embrace that was strong and tight. “Hello, Ria.” She had a moment to recognize the glint in his eyes before his mouth crushed hers.

  The earth rocked beneath her feet as sensations burst through her. His lips were demanding, her response more so. It had been simple to tell herself that memory had exaggerated her reaction to him. But the reality made a mockery of the rationalization. Tongues tangled. Teeth clashed. Her hands were fisted in his hair to pull him closer, and her stomach was doing cartwheels as his lethal, heated flavor seeped through her.

  It was long luscious moments before he tore away to gulp a breath. But he didn’t release her. He kept her body snugged close to his. “Well, I gotta say, that was a far better welcome than I’d hoped for. Maybe now would be a good time to admit that I had you followed.”

  Her brain fogged, she blinked. “What? Where?”

  As if he recognized the exact moment comprehension filtered in, he stepped back a bit, released her waist to glide his hands up her arms. “Here. From my place. I figured you’d run and you did. I’ve had a couple people watching you since you left Jamaica.”

  The leap of emotion she’d experienced upon seeing him abruptly cooled. “Did you now.”

  The menace in her tone didn’t seem to faze him. He gave a slow nod, still watching her. “That’s right. I didn’t want to lose you for good, and given your greeting, you’ll have a hard time convincing me you aren’t glad I was able to find you. I’d say the ends justified the means this time, wouldn’t you?”

  He was looking entirely too pleased with himself. And she was feeling a bit put out to think how easily he’d managed the feat. “You tend to think the ends justify the means every time, don’t you?” Her eyes searched his. “I knew Alvarez had been released, but there wasn’t a word in the media about either of you. I didn’t know—”

  “There was nothing to report.” She thought that was regret in his expression, but it was there and gone so quickly she couldn’t be sure. “He was released early. Hendricks had arranged it before he broke into your house. Probably thought we’d take care of each other and he’d never have to worry about me talking.”

  Remembering the slight limp she’d noticed in his approach, she felt worry take precedence over irritation. “What happened between the two of you?”

  Jake hesitated, choosing his words carefully. The bullet wound he sported on his leg was a legacy of the first clash with Alvarez in ten years. But the other man hadn’t escaped unscathed. Jake had it on good authority that the knife injury the man had sustained would require several more surgeries to repair the muscle damage. “Our meeting was cut short. Vice has been all over me since he was sprung. Edwards and Renard are convinced there’s some kind of gang war in the making. Their scrutiny made it logical to pull back and reassess.”

  With the kind of attention he was getting from the Columbus PD,
he knew it was going to require quite a bit more patience before he could arrange an appropriate end for Alvarez. After waiting ten years, the prospect shouldn’t have had him so restless.

  But watching the news about Samson, knowing what every detail was doing to Ria, had him increasingly impatient. It might take years before he could make a move on Alvarez without having it come back to him. He didn’t have years.

  What he had was a nearly uncontainable desire to go to Ria. The thought of revenge had sustained him for a decade, but it proved ineffective at erasing memories of her. With the lingering danger still swirling around her, he couldn’t think of going to her if there was a chance someone would come after him about Alvarez. The choice in the end had been simple.

  “So…he’s still alive.”

  “He’s been given a stay of execution,” Jake corrected. But the statement failed to summon the familiar burn of resentment. The man had been stripped of everything. Vice was watching every move he made. There was no way Alvarez was going to be able to assemble an operation in what had been, for the last ten years, Jake’s town. It wasn’t enough. But it might be close.

  “I’ve made some changes in my operation,” he said abruptly. He cupped her elbows, thumbs caressing the delicate skin along the inside crease. “It’ll take awhile, but I have some legitimate sources of income forming.” And the less legal components would, eventually, be turned over to Cort. The pang that accompanied the thought was far slighter than it would have been six months ago. “I won’t be completely legit for a couple years, but it will happen. I figured that would be important to you.”

  From the expression on her face, she’d missed the import of his news. “Well, if it keeps you alive and out of prison, I’m for that, I guess.”

  “The question is, will it be enough to keep me in your life?” Even as he heard the words, Jake gave a slight wince. Finesse had never been so difficult to summon until it became all-important.

  Already the sunset was fading into night. He had the fleeting thought that his chances were fading with it. “Nothing in Hendricks’s documents indicate otherwise, so we have to figure Samson knows you’re still alive. You’ll have to remain hidden for several more months. Possibly years, if there is a criminal proceeding, which is looking more and more likely. Are you planning to go public? God knows, the government owes you for the last six years. You could testify against Samson.”

  She gave a half smile. Nothing in her life, it seemed, was ever that simple. “Could I? What would I have to say? Hendricks’s files have far more information than I can give. I can’t recall anything about the missions, and I have no way of linking Samson to any of it. I may be a target either way, but I like my chances better if I just stay lost.”

  He stared at her for a moment, then gave a slow nod. “Then I’ll stay lost with you.”

  Ria tried to speak, had to clear her throat. A crazy little pinwheel of emotion was whirling inside her chest. “You…want to stay here?”

  Jake lifted a shoulder, his gaze intent on her face. “Here. Somewhere else. It doesn’t matter. With you. That’s the important thing.” Women needed words, he knew. Ria was different from any other woman he knew, but he doubted she was that different. And he wasn’t certain he had the words to give her.

  “All I know about love is what I felt for my sister. But there was something about you that spoke to me the first moment I saw you in my restaurant.” Something more than lust, he remembered. Like an instant recognition that went deeper than attraction and took root. “I want to keep you safe. I want to be there by your side as you sort through all this craziness. And when you decide what it is you want to do with the rest of your life, I want your decision to include me.”

  It wasn’t a poetic expression of love. He wouldn’t have the experience with those sentiments, Ria knew. Neither would she. But his statement went a ways toward filling that yawning void inside her. And it was suddenly far easier to contemplate the future that stretched before her.

  With little urging she walked back into his arms, rested her head on his chest. “What a pair we are. How can we hope to find our way when neither of us has the slightest idea where we’re going?”

  Hope eddied through him, a quick spiral banishing the desolation that he’d lived with for far too long. “We’ll figure it out together. At least, if that’s what you want, too.”

  She tilted her head back to look at him. Trust had never come easily for her, and trusting him had seemed suicidal. But for once her emotions had ventured where her mind wouldn’t. If there hadn’t already been the seeds of trust planted back in Alabama, surely she wouldn’t have felt that staggering shock, that heart-wrenching sense of betrayal when she’d first thought he’d sided with Hendricks at her house. She still didn’t understand the bond that had been forged between them despite her well-constructed defenses. But she knew she wanted him at her side as they explored whatever the future held.

  “I don’t know much about this love thing.”

  There was a slight smile on his face as he cupped her jaw in his palm. “Me, either. But I have a feeling you and I are going to learn all about it together.”

  And as his mouth covered hers, his last word resounded in Ria’s ears like a bright and shiny promise.

  Together.

  Epilogue

  The fourteen-year-old girl closed her book guiltily when she heard her grandmother at the door. The small home hadn’t been swept yet, and dinner wasn’t ready. Once again she’d been lost in the wonders of biology and anatomy while reality had receded.

  She dashed to the crude kitchen, began to cut up the fresh vegetables she’d bought at the market on the way home from school that day. The older woman entered the room and sent a quick look around, before seeing the books on the table and heaving a sigh. The girl was as headstrong as her mother had been, although it wasn’t a boy who had turned Maria’s head, but something even less attainable.

  “Nieta, you waste your time with those books. College will not be for one such as you.” She went to the girl and shooed her away from the counter. Her hands moved quickly and surely as she diced the vegetables. “Did you get meat?”

  “It was too expensive today. I thought a vegetable stew.”

  The older woman nodded sagely. Meat was a luxury that could be afforded perhaps twice a week if her husband earned many tips driving his taxi. They had potatoes tonight, and they would be filling.

  “There is mail for you, on the table. You haven’t been applying to universities again, have you?”

  The girl’s hesitation was a shade too long. “No, Abuela.” She picked up the lone envelope. Although it was long and narrow, there was no school address on it. In fact—she frowned, turned it over curiously—there was no return address at all.

  With quick motions she opened it, took out the single sheet of paper inside. Curiosity was swiftly drowned by a tide of anger, followed by an all-too-familiar sorrow.

  Dear Maria,

  You can’t imagine how often I’ve thought of you over the years. How often I wished that my life had been taken instead of your mother’s. Luz had a big heart and because of her assistance to a stranger, she died. I’ve never forgiven myself for bringing danger to your tiny part of the island.

  For many years I’ve sought to discover answers to what happened that day, and I’ve finally found them. They don’t change anything. You were still robbed of a parent who devoted her life to you. Nothing can change that.

  Maria’s eyes misted, and she wiped at them impatiently. The loss of her mother had devastated her young life and it was a wound that continued to throb. Nothing would ever change that.

  The debt I owe your mother cannot be repaid. That fact continues to haunt me. But I remember well how proud she was of you. What she sacrificed for you. And I know she would have done everything in her power to provide you with every opportunity.

  I’ve kept track of you over the years, and I’ve learned you wish to be a nurse. I think your mother wo
uld be very proud. The account number listed below has been set up in your name at the noted bank. There is enough money in it to pay for a college education, either on the island or off it.

  Under her grandmother’s questioning eye, Maria pulled out a chair, sank into it. The letter was clutched tightly in her hand. A tiny kernel of hope was beginning to bloom where once there had been a grudgingly bleak acceptance.

  I know what it’s like to live with a hollow inside you that you doubt can ever be filled. Each of us has to find our own way to come to peace with the past. I’ve only recently accepted that myself. I hope by following your dream, Luz’s dream for you, you’ll discover that yourself.

  Angel

  A tear dripped onto the paper, smearing the ink. Then another. Alarmed, her grandmother exclaimed, “Nieta, what is it? Bad news?” She bustled around the small table, slipped an arm around Maria’s shoulders.

  The girl shook her head, held the paper up for her grandmother to read. “No, Abuela, not bad news. I think…I think it might be a miracle.”

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-6306-6

  THE BUSINESS OF STRANGERS

  Copyright © 2005 by Kimberly Bahnsen

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.