Book Read Free

Harlequin Romantic Suspense July 2021 Box Set

Page 72

by Carla Cassidy


  And did she really want to find out that he was like all the rest of the people who attracted her? Bad news underneath?

  Because if she was as into him as her reaction to him would have her believe, she could bet there was some not-good stuff beneath his surface. Maybe, during his interrogation, she could learn a little bit about him, too. Like, was he married even though he wore no ring?

  Did he have a girlfriend? Live with someone? Have any children?

  He knocked on the door just then, wearing jeans, too. And a blue-and-white shirt that fit him to perfection. The buttons didn’t quite pull at his chest, but there wasn’t any extra room there, either. Not like her baggy cotton. His tennis shoes, black to her white, looked newer than hers.

  When she’d been in high school, the kids with new-looking tennis shoes had been considered nerds. The ludicrousness of the thought hit her almost as quickly as the thought itself, but it calmed her shaking nerves, too.

  Heidi had had a supervised visit with Bella the day before. The caseworker had come to Jasmine’s to pick up the toddler and had returned her right on schedule. Bella had been clingy the rest of the evening. That’s what she had to keep in mind. Her niece. And getting this mess fixed, showing Heidi for who she was, so that Bella could have a secure, happy home environment.

  “We can talk in here,” she said, leading Greg into the great room that served as both living and family room. Her light brown leather sectional, matching chairs and entertainment center separated most of the room from the back quarter that held a couple of antique chairs, a bookcase and the piano that she’d learned on, growing up.

  She didn’t offer him anything to drink, but he carried a bottle of water with him. She took one of the chairs. He sat on the love seat portion of the sectional, putting his plastic water bottle on a coaster on the table in front of him.

  The man had manners. Kudos to those who’d raised him. Of course, he could have learned them on his own—overcoming a horrendous childhood to make it good in the world...

  “Did you grow up around here?” The question popped out.

  He shook his head. “I went to high school in Colorado and Arizona, two years each,” he told her. “Grade school and junior high were Utah, Colorado, Oregon and then Washington State—Seattle.”

  She leaned on the arm of her chair, in his direction. “Seriously?” she asked, unable to prevent her interest. As a teacher, she knew how rough it could be on kids to move around during the critical years of bonding and first friendships. “Was your father in the military?”

  “My parents met in college,” he said, somewhat laconically. “Mom’s into employee management and getting the best out of the people who work for you. My father’s the numbers guy. They formed a business even before they formed a marriage and have made an impressive success out of both.”

  He wasn’t a shy man. Or overly modest. His honesty impressed her. “What’s their business?” And did it have that many franchises, that they’d needed to move so much?

  “The Rescuers,” he said, shaking his head. “There are a lot of companies out there that wait for a company to show signs of struggle and then swoop in and acquire them.”

  “Acquisitions,” she said, nodding. “That’s what my father does. He took over from his father. So...you’re telling me our parents are in the same business?”

  That was... Wow. Weird. And kind of... So did his father have a razor-sharp temperament, too? Did Greg? Was that the warning sign she needed so she didn’t let herself fall for him?

  “No. My folks are the antidote,” he said. “Or at least they try to be. They go into struggling companies on a two-year contract in order to turn them around.”

  Which explained why he’d moved around so much. And...completely the opposite from Oscar Taylor, the taker. Not that that gave her any leeway to fall for Greg Johnson.

  “Must have been hard for you, though, moving around so much. Do you have siblings?” She didn’t know what she’d do without Josh. And figured her growing up, while hard, still had some great memories attached, largely because of her brother.

  “No siblings,” he told her, lifting an ankle across his knee as he sat back, an elbow on the couch arm. He seemed relaxed.

  She liked him there.

  “My mom couldn’t have kids,” he told her. “She’d been in a car accident when she was a teenager, and it left her infertile.”

  So he was adopted. Why he was putting that out there she didn’t know, but she was glad he had. Maybe he was just being kind, giving a bit of himself since he was prying so completely into her private life.

  Maybe he just found her easy to talk to. People had told her they found her so, many times. Her friend Wynne said that she’d never met anyone she could talk to like she could talk to Jasmine.

  “Were you adopted as a baby?” She wanted to know.

  “Yes.”

  He didn’t seem to be in any hurry. Wasn’t looking around, seeking out her computer or nosing into closets and drawers. Could be he got more out of a person by the questions they asked. Or just by watching them...

  Could be she watched too many psychological cop shows.

  “Do you know anything about your biological parents? Have you ever sought them out? If you don’t mind my asking?” Being a cop, it might be easier for him to find out things that others wouldn’t be able to access. And she knew how it could mess with a guy, wondering about what genes he’d inherited on his Y chromosome. Or maybe that was just when your adoptive dad was too destructive to show you how to be a man.

  “I was abandoned in an office building bathroom with the umbilical cord still attached,” he said, watching her steadily now, making her more certain that she was under some kind of trial.

  Her eyes widened. Her mouth fell open. She could feel them both, but not soon enough to stop them. “Are you serious?” she asked, and then quickly, so he didn’t think she was seriously doubting him... “Were there security cameras? Did they see who left you there?”

  “No. And while the police spent months searching out every clue, they never found whoever took me there. Or found out who gave birth to me.”

  “Maybe she had you there, in the bathroom.”

  “That was one theory. The scene was clean, though, so doubtful. All of the women who worked in the building and were known to be pregnant checked out.”

  “Wow. Who found you?”

  “My mother. She and Dad had just started work for a smallish organic food company with offices on the third floor of the building.”

  She hardly knew the man. He’d been in her life less than a week. And at his candor, feeling a surge of compassion for that abandoned baby boy, Jasmine had maybe just fallen a tiny smidgeon in love with him.

  * * *

  Interrogation 101. Find a way to identify with the subject. Josh Taylor had been adopted by Jasmine’s father after he and Mary got married. A search of records between his phone call with Jasmine that afternoon and the evening’s visit had told him that much.

  He was adopted, too.

  She had sympathy for her brother. It would put her at ease to know that he understood a basic concept that had helped form Josh Taylor the man.

  Greg wanted to believe that was why he’d started burping out his private affairs to a woman who was not only a stranger, destined to remain so, but one he didn’t even fully trust.

  Except he did trust her not to be harmful to other human beings. He’d done what research he could on the internet. Found a blog written by a former resident at The Lemonade Stand and comments on the post. He’d read all of the records that William had in Josh’s file—some provided by Josh’s attorney earlier that day in preparation for Thursday’s hearing. He’d thought about his conversations with Lila McDaniels Mantle. Brief though they were, given the director’s reputation, they were also very telling. Jasmine wouldn’t be working at t
he Stand if Lila had a single doubt about the safety of children around her.

  And he’d considered Heidi’s testimony, too. The abused woman had admitted that she had no evidence whatsoever that Jasmine had ever hurt anyone—except Josh all those years ago.

  “Heidi tells me that Josh isn’t your father’s biological child,” he said, maybe not with the most finesse. His successful morning, his climb, the hot shower afterward had left him a bit too relaxed.

  “That’s right,” she said, with little more than a raised eyebrow.

  “You didn’t think to mention that to me the other night?” Out on her deck. She’d told him she’d tell him the complete truth.

  “It honestly didn’t even cross my mind,” she said. And then frowned, looking at him. “But it should have. I’m asking for your help, and him not being biologically related to an abuser might help. I just... Wow, I’m sorry. I don’t think of Josh in terms of our father. Because I know he’s not my dad’s child.”

  “Environmentally, he is.”

  She tilted her head, as though to acknowledge the statement.

  He thought of her question about finding his biological parents. “Has Josh ever looked for his father?”

  “He didn’t have to look. Mom was only ever with one other man. The identity of Josh’s father was never a secret between her and my dad. They told Josh together when he reached puberty.”

  Not at all like his own sorry tale, biologically speaking. Feeling a bit soft for having shared his own story, in light of Josh having been adopted, he asked, “Did he take it hard?”

  “Are you kidding? He ran into my room all excited because the ass wasn’t his real dad. And then he stopped dead still in the middle of the room, looking sick, because he knew that Oscar was still my real dad.”

  Yes. About that...

  Heidi and her patterns. And her testimony that Jasmine had told her about having fears about herself. Fears that she might have the capacity for her father’s vile anger deep inside her.

  “Has he been in his touch with his father?”

  “Once. Shortly after he found out about him. They met once, for hamburgers. The guy was married, no kids, and no desire to have any. He played in a band. His wife was their lead singer. They traveled all the time. Lived in a one-bedroom trailer. And when Oscar found out he and his wife did drugs, that was that. When Josh was old enough to reconnect, he said he had no reason to do so.

  “The guy has always been kind of a nonentity in our lives. Surreal, you know? After having me, my mom left my father because he already had anger issues, though she didn’t tell us that part until after she and my dad divorced. Anyway, while they were apart she met Josh’s dad in a bar where he was playing a one-man guitar gig, had one night with him, and when he found out she was pregnant, he told her she had to get an abortion. My father, who was still in the picture because of me, offered to take her back, to love Josh as his own, to take care of all of us, and she figured that was the best choice. In his own way, Oscar loved us. Just not enough to get help for his temper. Or even to admit that he’s ever done anything wrong.”

  “He signed private legal documents not only giving you and Josh a fortune, but agreeing to stay away from you. Obviously he knows he did something wrong.”

  She shook her head. “He signed them so that my mother wouldn’t go public with her accusations against him. He’d built a solid reputation along with a great deal of wealth during the years of their marriage. Mostly I think he signed them because of Josh and me. We were old enough to be heard by then. I think he knew our mother would never stand up to him on her own. And he also knew that she couldn’t keep us quiet. I don’t think he thought for a minute that he’d get convicted if he was charged. And chances were he might not have. He just didn’t want the hit to his reputation. He hobnobs with senators and billionaires. He still believes that we bring on whatever bad happens to us.”

  “You seem pretty prosaic about it all.”

  “Years of counseling,” she said, with a shake of her head and a small smile. “It took a long time for me to talk about my father without bitterness. But the truth is, things happen and you either accept them and move on, or you let them steal the rest of your life from you. Oscar isn’t getting mine. And thanks to his money, Josh and I can both work to make the world better for at risk children after growing up as we did. Thanks to Oscar, I can afford to donate every cent of my salary right back to The Lemonade Stand, as I’m sure Lila told you. There’s justice in that.”

  Lila hadn’t told him. Greg took the news with a bit more than a mere mental note. Not that he let on to her. Jasmine Taylor worked a full-time job for free. Not on a volunteer basis, but she just didn’t take her paycheck home with her.

  Impressive.

  “Heidi mentioned your three failed relationships,” he said, pulling out the big guns to get himself back on track. “She thinks they were abusive or bordering on it.”

  Color left her face. Noticeably. She didn’t bow her head, or start any nervous tweaks or twitters, but he had the distinct impression that he could feel her sudden tension.

  So she had been holding back.

  And if she had her own secrets, didn’t it stand to reason that she’d hide her brother’s, as well? Maybe without even realizing she was doing so?

  It was a theory. One that he preferred over her having been lying to him all along. It shouldn’t matter either way, though, since the outcome was the same.

  An outcome that was his only reason for knowing her, talking to her, at all.

  “Why was she talking about my relationships?”

  “Because I asked her about the motion she filed on Friday. If there’s anything that’s going to come up there that will affect the state’s case against your brother, I need to know about it. She didn’t name names, though, and I didn’t ask for them. As of right now, I don’t know them. I was just getting ready to dig deeper and find out on my own when I got your call. I’m hoping you’ll give them to me.”

  She could make of that what she would. If she wanted to continue fooling herself that he was there to protect her and her brother with the truth, that was on her. He wasn’t looking for her truth, but the real truth.

  “She’s using my past relationships to prove that I’m unfit to care for Bella?” The horror in her voice was stark. And painfully clear. “Because I made some bad relationship choices, I’m unfit to keep a child safe?”

  As she said the words, she seemed to shrink in on herself. “I get it,” she said slowly, her voice a mere thread compared to what it had been a moment ago. “I mean, look at my mother. But...I’m not in a relationship. Nor do I have any plans to be in one. To the contrary, I’ve made a firm decision not to get involved again. To be forever single and live alone. Because of those relationships. Because of what I learned about me through them.”

  Because Heidi was right? Had Jasmine found herself dangerously close to exploding, as her father had?

  “What did you learn?”

  “Seriously?”

  She’d been using that word a lot that night. He wondered if it was a thing of hers. Everyone had their things. He kind of liked the way she said the word. With a bit of a sassy lilt in her voice. Which had nothing at all to do with why he was there.

  Or why he’d asked the question.

  “Seriously,” he said back.

  “I learned that, as happens with many victims—and survivors—I am attracted to people who portray characteristics that can easily turn abusive. People in positions of power. People who exude strength. Not to say that most people with either of those characteristics are abusive, but that’s where it starts with me. And somehow my psyche homes in on the ones with the negative aspects that turn something good into something very, very wrong.”

  One of those patterns Heidi had talked about. But not the one Heidi had mentioned in terms of Jasmine.r />
  “So they challenged you and you got angry?”

  “To the contrary.” She lifted her chin and looked him straight in the eye. “They challenged me, and I took it. I did everything I could to please. And when they got angry anyway, I did what I learned to do in high school when my mom and Josh and I left my dad. I walked out. Three times. Leaving each of them in wherever we’d been living. Two cottages and a condo. I used those, and my agreement to never bad talk them, to negotiate for the things I wanted. My personal things. Artwork I loved. A cat, once. He’s since died.”

  She added the last matter-of-factly. Greg sat there watching her. Staring, really. He had no idea what to make of any of what she was telling him.

  A person didn’t just make up stuff like that.

  This person didn’t. His gut was telling him that much.

  It had told him some things about Liv, too. Some right. Some not.

  And why in the hell did he keep thinking about Liv when he was with Jasmine? He wasn’t getting involved with Josh Taylor’s sister.

  Must be because of the previous week’s phone call. He was due to have dinner with Liv and Rick again the following evening. She’d called just before he’d headed over to Jasmine’s that evening. Was in a good place again. She and Rick wanted to treat him to sushi to thank him for being such a good friend.

  A card would have been nicer. But there was no way he’d tell her so. Or turn down her invitation. Liv was a good woman. Smart. And he actually enjoyed hanging out with her and Rick. They felt like family—and God knew he had so little of that.

  Thinking of which, he should be heading home. Get some sleep. He’d need a full hour’s workout in the morning if he was going to be seeing Liv. And 5:00 a.m. came early.

  Just one more thing...

  “Who is it you don’t want me to talk to?” he asked. He’d thought about her phone call a lot since it had come that afternoon. More than he’d have liked. And he figured it out, too. That she’d been panicked in particular. Not in general.

 

‹ Prev