by Cindi Myers
“Then you have a lot of good people looking for her,” she said. “And she didn’t just leave to wander the streets. She isn’t hiding, not wanting to be found. She’s headed here, to see you. So they’re going to find her.”
He nodded. Everything she said made sense to the part of him that was a law enforcement officer.
The part of him that was father to a headstrong girl wasn’t so easily persuaded. “I’m frustrated that I can’t do more from this distance. I want to go out and personally look for her.”
“You need to be here,” she said. “Waiting in case she shows up.”
He drank more wine. “Her mother blames me. Her sister does, too. None of them were happy about me coming here to take this job. But they weren’t that happy with me when I lived in DC either.” Whatever he had done, it had never been enough for them, he realized. “What is it you wanted to talk about?” he asked.
“I don’t think you’re going to like what I have to say.” She sat hunched, hands on her knees.
“I know you went out with Toby Masterson Saturday night,” he said.
She straightened. “How did you know that?”
“I ran into Masterson at TDC on Friday and he made a point to tell me.” He helped himself to a slice of cheese and some crackers.
She didn’t like that, he could tell. He ate and sipped the wine, watching her. “How was the date?” he asked after a while.
She shrugged. “I should have listened to my initial instincts and turned him down again.”
He sat forward, temper rising. “Did he do anything—?”
“No, no. He was a gentleman. But I knew from the first he wasn’t right for me.”
“Then why did you go out with him?”
She looked away, cheeks slightly flushed. “You’re going to think it’s really silly.”
“Try me.”
“After I broke up with Dane, I had this sense of time running out. I’m thirty-six years old. I really want to have a family. A husband and children if possible, but if not, I intend to have children on my own.” He didn’t miss the lift of her chin, and the note of defiance in her voice.
“There’s nothing silly about that,” he said.
“That’s not the silly part. I told myself that I owed it to myself to do everything I could to find the right man. So I vowed to go out with anyone who asked me. Provided they weren’t married or had some other big warning flag against them. I registered with a couple of online sites and I’ve pretty much stuck with that plan. I’ve dated a lot of men in the last six months.”
“But you haven’t found the right one.”
“No. And sometimes I get discouraged, but since I couldn’t put my finger on any one thing that was wrong with Masterson, I told myself he deserved one chance. After all, what was one date?”
“But now you feel differently.” He kept his voice even. Dispassionate. “Why is that?”
“The date was fine at first. I was having a good time, even. But then Toby started asking me about Dane. Why did I think he disappeared? What did the two of us talk about? Did he talk about his work? Had he been in touch with me since he disappeared?”
“He was probing you for information.”
“Yes. And then, this morning, I delivered some flowers to the preschool run by Audra Trask, Dane’s daughter. She took me next door to show me the site where TDC is building a new elementary school, with attached preschool, which Audra will run. While we were there, Toby Masterson drove up. He didn’t speak, but he waved. When I asked Audra if she knew him, she said yes, that he had asked her out several times, as recently as last week. She turned him down but, I don’t know, it just didn’t sit right with me.” She shook her head. “So when I got back to the shop, I called Cara Mead.”
“Trask’s administrative assistant.”
“Yes. And she said Trask had asked her out, too. Then I was sure his interest wasn’t so much in the three of us, but in what we could tell him about Dane.”
“Maybe he’s after the reward money.”
“He probably is. But it feels like there’s something more there than that. After all, he had a relationship with Dane through Welcome Home Warriors. When Toby talks about Dane, I get a sense he feels, I don’t know, betrayed or something.” She shrugged. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this, I just felt you ought to know.”
“I appreciate it.” He set aside his empty wineglass. “It’s good to see you again.”
She moved in beside him and took his hand, her skin soft and cool against his own, the soft fragrance of her perfume tickling his senses. “It feels good to be with you, too.” She leaned in and kissed him.
Her lips were soft and warm, and she tasted of wine and something faintly sweet, though maybe that was merely his imagination translating his emotions to physical sensation. He slid his arms around her and she pressed against him, the tips of her breasts brushing his chest, vanquishing the weariness that had dragged at him like chains.
She opened her mouth against his and clasped him tighter. He responded by deepening the kiss, trailing his hand down her spine, then stroking the sides of her breasts. He wanted her so fiercely he feared losing control, and wondered if it would better for both of them if he left now.
But he remained fixed in place, kissing and touching, united by longing and joy.
“Come to bed with me,” she whispered. “Make love to me. Now.”
For a moment he wondered if his imagination had conjured the words. He broke the kiss and looked into her eyes, and found desire as strong as his own reflected back to him. “You’re sure?” he asked.
She nodded. “Oh yes.”
He wasn’t a man who had to be asked twice. He stood, still holding her hand, and let her lead him to her room.
* * *
EVE MOVED WITH a floating sensation, buoyed by desire—and the heady sensation of taking control. Exactly what felt right. For the past six months—longer even—she had made decisions based on what she wanted for the future.
Tonight, she was doing what she wanted for now. She wanted to be with Grant. To feel his arms around her, her body entwined with his. To take and give pleasure and savor every sensation without analysis or hesitation.
In the bedroom, she switched on several small lamps, which cast a soft glow in the corners of the room and beside the bed, a simple queen-size mattress and old-fashioned iron frame, topped with a white coverlet. She began to undress slowly. He sat on the edge of the bed and watched. She ignored him, trying not to feel self-conscious, aware of his eyes burning into her.
When she was naked, she walked to the bed and slipped under the covers. Only then did he undress, revealing a body that was every bit as sturdy and muscular as she had anticipated. She felt the power in that body when he crawled into bed beside her and pulled her into his arms, and reveled in the feel of his taut, bare flesh sliding against her own.
Neither spoke, yet she felt an intense communication between them, as he caught and held her gaze, then began to trace the contours of her body with one hand, the other cradling her head. She had the sense that he was memorizing her, learning her the way a blind man might learn unfamiliar terrain.
He shaped his hand to her breast, and when she sucked in her breath as his palm brushed her nipple, he asked, in a hushed voice, “Do you like that?”
“Yes.”
He bent and took her in his mouth, and she let out a groan—not of pain, but of pleasure.
Every movement was like that—exploration, discovery, deeper exploration. She followed his lead and began her own expeditions, learning the taste of his skin and the sensitivity of each inch of flesh. Her body hummed with heat and trembled with wanting, impatient for completion yet wanting this sense of being the center of his focus to never end.
By the time he accepted the condom she handed him and unwrapped it, she thou
ght she could hardly bear more pleasure. And then he filled her and she forgot everything that had come before, as he stroked her with one hand, while steadying himself to thrust and withdraw, exquisite friction stoking the fire within until she exploded in light and heat.
He stilled for a moment, as sensation coursed through her in waves. Only when she was still, panting beneath him, did he begin to move again, stronger and deeper, until a second climax like the aftershock of an earthquake shook her, and he cried out with his own release.
Afterwards they slept in each other’s arms, the sleep of two people who had no room left to worry about any heartache the future might bring.
Chapter Fourteen
Grant woke to a buzzing noise, persistent and out of place. He didn’t want to open his eyes and spoil this pleasant, floating feeling of such peace.
“Grant, your phone.” Eve’s voice, soft in his ear. She was part of his dream. She nudged his side. “Maybe you’d better answer it.”
He opened his eyes, and stared into her face, still soft with sleep, her hair mussed, eyes a little puffy. Yet she was the most beautiful sight to wake up to. He smiled, and she smiled, too. “Your phone,” she prompted.
He shoved himself up and turned toward the bedside table, where the phone danced in a circle, like a bumblebee stuck in a flower. The bedside clock showed 7:10 a.m. Too early for a routine call. He snatched up the phone. “Hello?”
“Grant Sanderlin?”
“This is he,” Grant said.
“Bryce Larkin, Philadelphia PD.”
“What can I do for you, Officer Larkin?”
“I think we may have found your daughter. Or at least, we have a good idea of where she is.”
All remnants of sleep vanished. Grant sat up on the side of the bed, heart pounding hard. “Where is she? Is she all right?”
Eve moved in behind him, one hand on his shoulder. The contact made him feel steadier.
“She took the bus from here, headed for Grand Junction, Colorado. Right now she’s probably somewhere south of Salina, Kansas.”
Relief flooded him, making him weak. He cleared his throat. “Have you spoken to her?”
“No, but we were able to talk to the bus driver and he says she’s fine. He’s agreed to keep an eye on her until his next stop, which is Denver. I’m calling to see what you want to do then. You could have someone pick her up in Denver, or the bus company people have agreed to keep tabs on her until she reaches Grand Junction. You could pick her up there.”
His first impulse was to drive to Denver, to see Janie that much sooner. But his sense of duty told him to stay here, with his active case, and trust others to look after his daughter. “Grand Junction,” he said. “If you’re sure they’ll keep track of her.”
“I spoke to one of the head honchos and he promised to put a priority on this. As it was, we were able to track her down because when she bought her ticket, the agent was suspicious and made her fill out her full name and address. She didn’t even try to lie.”
Grant laughed, as much from relief as anything else. “Thanks for everything.”
Larkin gave him the name and number of his contact with the bus company. After Grant talked to the man, he felt much better. He double-checked the arrival time of the bus in Grand Junction and made a note in his phone calendar.
Eve rested her head on his shoulder. “Thank God she’s okay,” she said.
“How did she get from DC to Philadelphia?” he wondered. “We’re going to have a long talk when she gets here.”
“When will she be here?” Eve asked.
“I’m going to meet her when the bus gets in a little after five in the morning.” He turned and pulled her into his arms. “I want you to meet her while she’s here.”
Her body tensed. “Do you think that’s a good idea? I mean...won’t it confuse her, or set up expectations?” She bit her lip, her eyes downcast.
The warmth of the previous night began to seep away. What about my expectations? he wanted to say. Are you telling me I shouldn’t have any? “You’re my friend,” he said. “That’s all she needs to know.” He tried for a more cheerful tone. “You can’t blame a father for wanting to show off his girl.”
She smiled, and if the expression was a little forced, he chose not to see it. “Of course,” she said. “I’ll look forward to meeting her.”
Relationships—and even relationships that didn’t happen—were full of complications. Navigating them was one of the givens of adulthood. And as much as he would have liked to stay in bed and make love to her all day, he stood. “I should probably get dressed and head to the office. I have a lot to do. You probably do, too.”
She nodded, and pulled the sheets around her, covering her body as if to say it was off-limits to him now. Why? It was only one of many questions he wanted to ask her, but now was not the time or place for such a discussion. People said all the time that the key to a strong relationship was discussion, but they rarely mentioned how hard it was to make the time for complicated conversations, or how impossible it could feel to find the right words—words that healed rather than hurt, that mended rather than made the rifts worse. Most people weren’t cowards, but they all had the instincts to protect themselves from hurt.
* * *
AFTER GRANT HAD LEFT, Eve telephoned Cara. “If you’re still determined to go out to that mine, I can go with you today,” she said. Better to do something active than to sit at home fretting about Grant and his daughter and life in general.
“Yes! I’d love that,” Cara said. “And thank you. Thank you so much.”
They agreed to meet at Cara’s office at one. Eve spent the morning in the flower shop. When Sarah came in at noon, she took one look at Eve and said, “What happened to you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You just look...different. Happier.”
Eve laughed. She was not happy. She was miserable. Grant’s phone call first thing this morning about his daughter had brought her crashing back to the reality that he was a man with two children who didn’t want more. She felt like the butt of a very mean-spirited joke on the part of the universe. “Nothing has happened to me,” she said. “Except we’ve been really busy. Your idea to make prom corsages ahead of time was genius, but I’m afraid we might even run out of them.” She went over the tasks that needed doing that afternoon, then excused herself to meet Cara before Sarah probed further.
Cara greeted Eve with her usual enthusiasm and agreed to drive to the mine, in a truck that turned out to belong to her fiancé, Ranger Officer Jason Beck. “Are you planning to tell Jason about this?” Eve asked as they headed out of town.
“I’m going to tell him tonight,” Cara said. “He won’t like it, but there’s not a lot he can say after the fact. I think he’s accepted that, even after we’re married, I’m going to do what I think is important. He doesn’t seem overly bothered by the idea.”
“Times have changed,” Eve said. “I remember my father objecting to a trip my mother had planned with friends and she ended up canceling. She said that kind of compromise was part of marriage, but I couldn’t help thinking she was the one who always compromised. And my grandfather used to tell my grandmother what to cook for dinner and where she had to shop. And she went right along with it.”
“Of course compromise is important,” Cara said. “But it’s better to work out things together than for one person to be expected to give in.”
Eve wanted the chance to build that kind of partnership. As much as she wanted children, marriage was so much more than that. And yes, she wanted it all—love and companionship and a family and a partner for life. Anything less felt like settling. She had tried to explain all that to Dane, but she didn’t think he had understood.
“Have you set a wedding date?” she asked.
Cara shook her head. “We know we’d like it to be
in the fall, but we haven’t pinned down an exact date yet. We want to plan a trip to New Hampshire to meet Jason’s parents. And we want to wait until after everything with Dane is resolved. The investigation is demanding so much of Jason’s time. I understand that isn’t going to change—that’s his job. But with my connection with Dane—we’d just like to have it behind us.”
“I understand,” Eve said. In a way, her own life felt on hold until Dane resurfaced, or they at least had some explanation for his behavior.
“Hang on, this part gets a little bumpy,” Cara said, turning off onto a steep gravel road. They were in the Curecanti Wilderness now, a landscape of yellow and red rock, stunted pinion trees and silvery sagebrush. It looked so barren, and yet as they trundled over the rough road, Eve could make out wildflowers—yellow daisies, red paintbrushes and pink primroses—amid the weeds. Cattle and deer grazed in the distance and a red-tailed hawk wheeled overhead.
They turned off again, onto a narrower gravel road that Eve remembered from when she had attended the protest rally at the mine. That day she had traveled to the mine with six other people crammed into an SUV, everyone chattering and laughing and discussing the plans for the protest. All conversation had ceased when they turned off onto this road, however, since it was so bone-jarringly rough. It was all they could do to hold on and keep from being tossed out of their seats, despite their safety belts.
“Wow, they’ve really done a lot of work on this road,” Cara said as the truck ground up the steep grade. Gravel ticked against the undercarriage as the tires found purchase, but gone were the deep ruts and head-sized rocks they had been forced to navigate before.
“We’ll have to park outside the gate, out of sight of the security cameras, and hike in,” Cara said. “But don’t worry. I know the back way in. We’ll get in, collect the samples, and be out in under half an hour.”
The nerves that had been hiding beneath their happy conversation now reared up like a monster that had been lying in wait. “Didn’t I hear something about you getting shot at one time when you came up here?”
