Hard To Resist

by Kylie Brant

  Cautiously he said, “I think that’s a given.”

  “Makes you wonder what he’s afraid we’d find in the man’s past, doesn’t it?” Speaking of the case seemed to relax her as nothing else could. He could almost see the tension seep from her limbs in tiny increments.

  “Connally checked his past. But then, you know that.” He couldn’t resist the veiled jab. He wasn’t sure where she was heading with the conversation, but he wasn’t in the mood to make it easier for her.

  “We know he hasn’t been arrested for ten years. But when it comes to what he’s been up to…”

  “Can’t find any employment records. No property in his name. No permanent address. Hasn’t paid Social Security or filed a tax form. He hasn’t even applied for a driver’s license.”

  She inclined her head, granting him that one. She had no doubt that he’d exhausted those leads himself. “So whatever Delgado’s been doing for the past decade, he’s made a point of doing it quietly. Why would anyone bother to go to such lengths to leave no records if he were living a model life? I’ve been thinking that maybe I should give Connally’s original hunch more credence.” The next few words seemed to pain her. “And yours.”

  He clutched his heart, feigned shock. “Are you, in an unusually roundabout fashion, telling me that I was actually right about something?”

  His sarcasm had her relaxing a fraction, if only to show irritation. “Don’t get cocky, McKay. I’m not ready to buy any theories on how he’s spent the last ten years without some evidence to back it up. But I am beginning to think it would help my case to do a little more digging into his past.”

  He dropped his hands, hooked his thumbs in his pockets. “And you’re telling me this, because…”

  Her mouth flattened. “I’m telling you that I’ve reconsidered.” He could only imagine what the next few words cost her. “I may have been too hasty when I asked you to steer clear of the investigation.”

  His shock was real now, but he did a better job this time of hiding it. “May have been?”

  He thought, he was almost sure, he could hear her teeth snapping together. But to her credit she didn’t lose her cool but looked him straight in the eye. “Beardmore wants a win pretty badly on this one. So far I’ve got two detectives who have their caseloads to juggle along with the investigation aspect of the case, one assistant state attorney for whom the same can be said, and myself. It occurred to me that I’d be a fool to discourage you from digging up any details you can that might help put that scumbag away.”

  A cynical smile twisted his lips. As if she could have stopped him in the first place. “And what led you to this abrupt change of heart?”

  “It’s partly due to a chat I had with Dennis about an hour ago. And partially from the look on Meghan Patterson’s face after the prelim.”

  The words had him dropping his gaze. “That had to be tough on her.”

  “It will continue to be tough on her,” A.J. predicted grimly. “Because Paquin is going to drag her reputation through the gutter with this defense route he’s taking. She’s well-known in this city. She comes from one of Chicago’s oldest families. When the trial starts, the media coverage will be brutal.”

  If she expected him to object to her words because he was part of that media, she’d be disappointed. Dare well knew how reputations could be tarnished, lives ruined, just by the breath of scandal surrounding a person. And somehow, even when the suggestions proved false, it was the scandal, not the exoneration, that the public remembered.

  “Do you think Paquin believes that line of defense will convince Meghan to drop the charges? Any chance of that happening?”

  A.J. lifted a shoulder. “I’m sure the devious jerk had all kinds of reasons for doing what he did. She and Connally are pretty adamant about holding Delgado accountable for his actions. She’s also convinced he was instrumental in her sister’s death.” She stopped then, frowned. “But if there’s a chance that the publicity surrounding the case could have an adverse effect on her nephew, well…I’m not sure what she’ll decide.”

  He nodded, remembering quite well how protective Meghan was of the six-year-old boy. “So now you’re figuring that the facts as they stand might not be enough.”

  “I want more.” The uneasy woman who had entered his apartment had vanished. He was much more familiar with the one facing him now, wearing a mask of determination. He found he preferred her like this. Addison Jacobs. Righter of wrongs. Protector of the downtrodden.

  The flash of admiration he felt wasn’t totally comfortable. It would be much easier to believe that she’d made the decision to use him again because he could be of help. And if he wasn’t so convinced of her genuine concern for the victims in this case, he’d choose to believe just that. “So why are you here, Addie?”

  She never backed down from an unpleasant task, he’d grant her that. “I’m here to tell you I’m interested in hearing whatever you uncover.” He began to nod, unsurprised, but she wasn’t finished. “And that I want to be involved in every step.”

  That snared his attention as nothing else could have. “You mean you want me to report to you.”

  “No, I want to go with you when you follow your leads. Have you traced Delgado’s sister yet?”

  He could see where this was headed, and it was time to take a detour. “I don’t know for sure where to find her.” Under her silent stare he felt like a perjured witness. He had the woman’s date of birth and social security number, and had actually found record of some traffic tickets in her name in Ohio. But he wasn’t lying when he said, “I’m still digging. I was going to go to Ohio tomorrow and see what I can turn up, but it’s going to be hit-and-miss.” He was talking faster now, as if speed would sway her where logic wouldn’t. “You’d be better off waiting to see if I have any luck. Then you could accompany Connally when he questions her. He and Madison may even find her first.” Humility had never been his strong point, but a desperate man was a well of creativity.

  “The potential witnesses in this case have a way of disappearing,” she noted flatly. “I do plan to accompany Connally and Madison when they question people. I also plan to accompany you.”

  He couldn’t remember when he’d heard a worse idea. Hadn’t they already been through this? Hadn’t he recently, in a fit of blinding stupidity, suggested the very thing? But that was before he’d been reminded of all the reasons the two of them should stay far, far apart. Before he’d touched the satiny skin on her thigh and been reminded that the silkiness was repeated on every square inch of her flesh. And before he’d spent interminable minutes kissing her, recalling things that would be much better left forgotten.

  He’d since regained his senses as well as his cognitive functioning. “I don’t think so.”

  Her expression took on a superior cast that was more than a little provocative. “Just what is it you’re afraid of, McKay?”

  Brows skimming upward, he folded his arms across his chest and contemplated her. “Afraid? Me?”

  Her fingers clenched against her leg in an uncustomary show of nerves. “I think we’re both mature enough to put our personal feelings aside, don’t you? This case is important. I want Delgado convicted. I’m willing to do what it takes to accomplish that. You convinced Connally of your theory on the man’s past. Let’s get some proof.”

  The unusual sight of Addie flustered, even a bit, was a diversion he didn’t need. “You’ll get your proof, along with a prediction. When we start digging into Delgado’s past, we’re going to find ourselves tripping over Mannen, too.”

  It wasn’t until he caught her smile that he recognized the pronoun he’d used. We. Cursing himself for being all kinds of a fool, he gave in with little grace. “Be ready to leave at seven tomorrow morning.”

  Puddle jumpers weren’t high on A.J.’s list of favorite things, but the takeoff at O’Hare went without incident. It would, Dare had asserted, save time to fly to Ohio and rent a car. The plan made too much sense to argue wit
h. It didn’t appear wise to argue with Dare right now, at any rate.

  Her gaze slid to the man next to her. He’d been remarkably quiet since they’d met at the airport. There had been no teasing comment about her simple black pants and jacket, no arch remark about her willingness to spend time with him. No, there had been very little conversation at all. And she suspected that she knew what was weighing on his mind.

  “I heard from the officer who investigated that driver that nearly hit me. The car had been stolen, then abandoned. Probably some kid out for a joy ride.”

  “That’s possible, I guess.”

  “I also heard from Connally last night. He had more information on the homicide of the snitch…Cooley?”

  Dare’s jaw tightened. “Yeah, I talked to Connally, too.”

  From his reaction, it appeared she’d accurately guessed the reason for his preoccupation. “You aren’t to blame for his death.”

  Voice expressionless, he countered, “Aren’t I?”

  “No.” Her voice was firm. “Your number may have been found in his pocket, but Connally said the man made his living selling information to the highest bidder. He’d dealt with him several times himself. It was a high-risk business.” She paused a beat for emphasis. “One filled with dangers.”

  He finally looked at her then, and his eyes had gone flat and steely. “What are you suggesting, Addie? That it wasn’t his connection to me that got him killed?”

  “I’m suggesting that you have no idea how many people he’d dealt with recently, nor all the information he was selling. There’s no reason to believe his death was linked to you.”

  His mouth twisted. Her words failed to shake his certainty of just that. Cooley wouldn’t be the first innocent victim to get caught up in the deadly struggle between Mannen and him. A scene from the past burned a path across his mind, and he almost flinched. It was always the sounds from that day that seemed most prominent. The roar of the explosion, the screams, the wail of sirens…

  It was tempting to give up when he just looked away without comment, but A.J. tried one more time. She, of all people, knew about regret, the suffocating weight of it, that could paralyze and haunt by turns. “Haven’t we all made enough mistakes that we have to live with? Do you really need to accept guilt about something you had no control over?”

  His tone was challenging. “You sound like the voice of experience. Do you take your own advice?”

  Her gaze went past him, to focus on the cotton-batting clouds. “I’m trying,” she murmured finally. “I am trying.”

  She didn’t consider how much she’d exposed about herself with those few words. It had just occurred to her that a reporter who felt responsible for the welfare of a street snitch was far more admirable than she’d like to believe. It was doubtful that such a man would stoop to rifling her notes for details to support a story.

  Shifting in her seat uncomfortably, she acknowledged that the thought wasn’t a new one. The facts stated in his article two years ago had closely reflected details she’d had documented in her briefcase, and she’d seized on the coincidence to support a decision she’d already made. He’d gotten too close to her, too fast, and that had scared the hell out of her. That had been the truth two years ago.

  And despite the passage of time, it was just as true today.

  “So where do we begin?”

  “With Clancy’s last-known address.”

  “How do you know she’s still there?”

  His tone was patient as he checked for traffic before merging onto the freeway. “She may not be, but it’s a starting point. If she moved on, chances are she left traces. Mail has to be forwarded, employers notified, licenses renewed. You wouldn’t believe the information available on people in the county courthouses.”

  Actually, she had no trouble believing it, having haunted the courthouse herself digging for facts relating to her cases. They were, indeed, a gold mine of information. Drivers’ licenses, property purchases, mortgage applications, liens, criminal judgments, pet licenses… If Nancy Clancy still lived in the county, she had no doubt they could find her.

  However, when they went to the address Dare had acquired, the current occupant was an unshaven man dressed in stained sleeveless T-shirt and khakis, who appeared to be nursing a hangover. He’d been living there for three months, he told them, and had never met the former occupant. So in the end, Dare and A.J. ended up in the local courthouse, just as he’d predicted.

  Seated at a table beside him, A.J. stared at the computer screen until her eyes threatened to cross. Pulling up Clancy’s driver’s license had yielded the same address they’d visited. Although they found one drunken driving conviction from three years previously, there was no sign of the woman’s name in any of the other sets of records they accessed.

  She slid a glance at Dare. He was slouched over the table in a boneless position that would have her spine screaming after only a few minutes. From the looks of him, he could go on like this for hours. She imagined that there had been occasions when he’d had to.

  Giving an inner sigh, she went back to her work and began to access the county property records. After several minutes she paused, almost unwilling to believe what she’d found. She grabbed the briefcase she’d set on the floor beside her chair and laid it on the table, snapped the locks open.

  Dare looked up questioningly. “Did you pack a lunch in there or something? Because I could go for a hot ham and cheese on rye right about now.”

  She was rifling through her notes. “I don’t suppose you remember Paul Delgado’s middle initial.”

  “T for Thomas.”

  “And his birthdate is…” She checked the sheet she’d been looking for, then compared it to the name on the screen. “January 11.”

  “A Capricorn,” he agreed, coming over to look. “What are you getting at? Did you find Delgado’s name on there?”

  She leaned to one side to allow him to see. “No, but I found a Paul T. Belgado with a birthdate and social security number that matches our guy.” She couldn’t prevent the hint of smugness from tingeing her voice. “Looks like he bought some property down here about four months ago.”

  Clancy’s house was several rungs above her former dwelling. “A spelling error,” Dare muttered for the fifth time. “If I told you how many times I’ve run into dead ends because some idiot types the wrong letter or number…”

  “Don’t pout.” She reached over and patted his cheek. “It’s not attractive.”

  He captured her hand and shot her a pointed look. “Neither is gloating.”

  “I’m not gloating,” she corrected, discreetly tugging to free her hand. “Just stating a fact.”

  That familiar grin of his made an appearance, and something jittered in her chest. His amusement was infinitely preferable to the grimness he’d exhibited on the plane. So suffering through that megawatt smile was preferable, wasn’t it? That was the sole reason she let her hand rest in his a moment longer than necessary. Why it took yet another moment to gather scattered senses.

  “Am I expected to stand idly by while you charm Clancy like you did Stillwell?” The question was posed to distract them both.

  He lifted a shoulder, opened the car door. “Can’t say I know what to expect this time, so I’ll have to play it by ear.”

  It took a moment for her to understand his meaning. She hurried up the walk after him. “Don’t you think it’d be wiser to have a plan?”

  “Not if I’d have to shuck it in the first ten seconds.” He climbed up the steps and lifted his hand to knock at the front door. It was opened almost immediately by a preteen girl who surveyed them sullenly. “If you’re selling something, they’ll never buy it. They never buy nothing.”

  She was pushed aside by a thin-faced woman who looked them over sharply. “You cops?”

  Even as A.J. opened her mouth to answer, Dare let loose a laugh. “God, no. Do I look like a cop?”

  A fraction of the suspicion in the woman’s eyes f
aded, but she remained visibly wary. “You can’t always tell. Whaddya want?”

  “I’m trying to locate Paul Delgado. I was told he lived here.”

  “He don’t.” The woman made as if to close the door.

  Puzzlement was plain on Dare’s face. “But I understood he owned this property.”

  “He does, but he don’t live here. I’m his sister. He bought the house for me.”

  Dare exchanged a meaningful look with A.J. The trouble was, she had no idea what the look meant. Neither, apparently, did Clancy. “Is there a problem?” the other woman asked.

  “There might be, ma’am.” Dare turned from her to address A.J. “Would you go back out to the car and call the home office? Tell them we’re running into a bit of a snag here, and that we’ll be longer than expected.”

  She was savvy enough to play along, but she knew when she was being ditched. “Oh, I think that can wait, can’t it? We’re not that late.”

  He acted as though he hadn’t heard her. “Tell them there might be a problem with section 512 article 6, will you? They’ll understand how sticky that can be.”

  Her glare had no effect on him. He turned his bland smile back on Clancy, and A.J. was left to grit her teeth and walk back to the car.

  She sat fuming in the vehicle for a full minute before she remembered that she was supposed to be acting as though she were making a phone call. Whether that was really a necessary part of this ruse, or whether it had just been a handy excuse to get rid of her, she had no idea. She suspected the latter, but just to be sure, she opened her briefcase with movements made jerky by irritation. Pulling out her cell phone, she pretended to place a call.

  From the corner of her eye she watched the front porch. After several more minutes the screen door was opened wider and Dare was stepping inside. They disappeared in the house, but the child they’d spoken to earlier came out again.

  For lack of something better to do, A.J. watched her. Her lethargic movements and heavy sighs screamed boredom, an emotion A.J. could empathize with at the moment.