Private Eye Protector

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Private Eye Protector Page 7

by Shirlee McCoy


  He turned away, uncomfortable with his thoughts. He’d dated a few women since Jessica’s death, but none had compelled him the way Rayne did. None had made him want more than he should.

  Outside, the nearly empty parking lot gleamed in the sunlight. The few vehicles in it parked close to the building. All except for one. A dark truck. Foreign. No license plate. Not one on its front end, anyway.

  Had it been there when they’d pulled in?

  Chance didn’t remember seeing it.

  He stepped outside, adrenaline shooting through him as the truck sped to the edge of the parking lot and out onto the main road. No plate on the back, either.

  A coincidence that it looked like the truck Fred had described?

  Probably.

  But Chance didn’t like loose ends. He wanted everything tied up nice and neat.

  “Is every okay?” Rayne stepped outside, her gaze following the truck as it disappeared.

  “Fine.”

  “Then, why are you standing out here watching a truck drive away?”

  “Just wondering who was in it.”

  “Because?”

  “My neighbor saw a similar truck on our road last night.”

  “You think it’s the same truck?”

  “I don’t know, but I’d like to find out.”

  “I suppose you have an idea about how to do that?”

  “No, but now that I’ve seen the truck, I’ll know if I see it again.” He led her back into the office, wishing he had a license plate to go on.

  Her cell phone rang as they walked back into the office, and she glanced at the number, frowned, shoved the phone back into her purse.

  “Not someone you want to talk to?” he asked.

  “It was Michael, and I really don’t have the time or patience to deal with him right now.”

  “Give me the phone. I’ll take care of it for you.” Happily. Chance might not be planning to fall for Rayne, but that didn’t mean he was going to let her ex harass her.

  “I’m a grown woman with a child and a job and a life. I’m perfectly capable of handling things myself.”

  “But you didn’t.” He pointed out the obvious and she scowled.

  “Just because I didn’t handle it your way doesn’t mean I didn’t take care of the problem.”

  “Ignoring a problem never makes it go away.”

  “I don’t plan to ignore it forever. Just…for now.”

  “Rayne—”

  “Chance, I appreciate the help you’ve been giving me. I really do, but—”

  “Is this one of those verbal Dear John letters? ‘I like you, but things just aren’t working out’?” he cut in, surprising a chuckle out of her.

  “Now it’s not. You’ve ruined the moment.”

  “Sorry about that, but we don’t have to take things so seriously. I’m helping you until you’re well. That’s all. Neither of us is looking for anything more. Just two people giving each other a hand. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “There is when one person is doing all the helping and the other person is doing all the being helped.”

  “Is that what this is about? Me helping you too much?”

  “Not your helping. My needing help. I don’t want to rely on you or anyone else. Not the way I did when I was dating Michael, letting him make all the decisions about where we were going, when and what we’d wear. I just want to live my life as me. Decide for myself what’s best—and whether I want to accept someone’s help or not.”

  “I don’t see how my helping you can keep you from making your own decisions.” He studied her face, looked for the truth in her eyes, but all he saw was fatigue, fear and the same confusion he felt every time their gazes met.

  All his plans, all his dreams out the window with one look into her misty eyes. Yeah. He understood all about confusion.

  “It’s not your helping that I’m worried about. It’s what could come of all the help, all the time spent together, that’s worrying me.” She looked away, breaking the connection, clearing the air of whatever was between them.

  “You’ve got nothing to worry about then. Neither of us wants another relationship, right?”

  “Right.”

  “For now, you need my help. In a couple of days, maybe a week, you won’t. When that happens, I’ll back out of your life as easily as I entered it.”

  “But—”

  “What?” he asked, but he knew. She felt what he did, the energy and connection that had been there from the moment she’d walked into Kane Dougherty’s boardroom to meet the Information Unlimited staff and they’d looked into each other’s eyes.

  “I just don’t want to make another mistake.”

  “Letting me help you isn’t a mistake, Rayne. It isn’t going to change you any more than you want to be changed by it.”

  “That’s the problem, Chance. What I want. Which is a whole lot more than what I should.”

  “Rayne Sampson?” A nurse stepped into the waiting area, and Rayne hurried away.

  Not a backward glance.

  Not a quick goodbye.

  Nothing but her words hanging in the air.

  What I want. Which is a whole lot more than what I should.

  Yeah. He understood that, too.

  Hopefully, wanting more wouldn’t make a liar out of him, saying he could walk away when this was over.

  He pulled out his cell phone, dialed the sheriff and left a message. Then dialed Kai Parker’s number. A deputy with the Spokane County Sheriff’s Department, he’d helped out with a few of Kane’s investigations. Hopefully, he’d be willing to help again.

  “Deputy Parker. What can I do for you?”

  “No need to sound so formal, Kai.”

  “I was wondering when you’d call. Heard there was some action going on in your life.”

  “Not mine. Rayne Sampson’s. She—”

  “Lives in your mom’s attic apartment, has partial amnesia and might have a killer after her. Heard the story from the sheriff. Want to tell me something new?”

  “My neighbor saw a truck drive down our road last night. He said it took half an hour for the driver to realize he’d hit a dead end and turn around.”

  “Someone visiting your mom?”

  “That’s what he thought, but she was at the hospital.”

  “What kind of truck?”

  “Dark. Foreign.”

  “Only a few thousand of those in the county.”

  “A few thousand plus the one I saw in front of the doctor’s office a few minutes ago.”

  “You get a plate number?”

  “No plates.”

  “Guy might get pulled over for that.”

  “If he does, I’d like to know who he is.”

  “I’ll let you know if it happens. Anything else?”

  “The sheriff was running a phone number for me. I tried to call, but he wasn’t in.”

  “I heard about that, too, and I have an answer for you. Probably not one you’re going to like. The number belongs to a prepaid cell phone. No way to trace it, but the sheriff did find out where it was sold.”

  “Arizona?”

  “Bingo. Buyer paid for it with cash. Phoenix P.D. is checking to see if the person who bought it matches a description of Darren Leon. I’ll give you a call as soon as we know something new.”

  “I appreciate it, Kai.”

  “No problem. I’ll keep in touch.” Kai hung up and Chance paced across the small room, stared out into the parking lot again. The likelihood the truck would be spotted and pulled over was slim. The likelihood that it was the same truck that Fred had seen was even slimmer. But he had to try.

  Never there.

  Too busy for anything but work.

  Good at your job but not good with people.

  Old words thrown at him by Jessica the day she’d walked out. Underlying them was just enough truth to make them cling long after she’d gone.

  Not there for Jessica.

  Not there
the night his brother and father died.

  Not there nearly enough.

  He couldn’t change that, but he wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

  As long as Rayne needed his help, he’d spend the time and energy it took to give it.

  And then, when it was over, he’d do exactly what he’d said. He’d walk out of her life.

  He just wasn’t sure how easy the walking would be.

  SEVEN

  Remember rule number two?

  No men. Ever.

  Well, you’re about to break it, Rayne Sampson. One more look in those blue-gray eyes and it’ll all be over. Rule number two broken.

  “I am not going to break rule number two,” Rayne muttered, and the nurse looked up from the chart she was writing on.

  “Pardon me?”

  “Nothing. Just talking to myself.”

  “Do you do that often or is this something new?” The nurse looked to be about twelve years old, black hair pulled into a silky ponytail, her green eyes wide with concern.

  “I’ve been doing it most of my life.”

  “Oh. Okay. That’s fine then. The doctor will be with you in just a moment.”

  “Thanks.” She waited until the nurse walked out the door and eased off the gurney, her head throbbing in time with her heart. She wanted to be anywhere but where she was, but mostly, she wanted to be home.

  Not home in her new apartment.

  Home in Arizona, her parents close by. Her friends. All the things she’d left behind. Community and connections. All the stuff that made a place home.

  Now she was drifting. No memories to anchor her in Spokane. Nothing solid to hold on to.

  Just Emma, Lila, Chance.

  Chance.

  He was a problem. No doubt about it.

  She’d already broken one rule because of him, and she was sliding straight into breaking rule number two.

  Stupid rules.

  Stupid heart.

  I’ll back out of your life as easily as I entered it.

  That’s what he’d said, and her foolish, fickle heart hadn’t been happy about how blithely those words had come, how sincere he’d looked when he’d said them.

  He’d back out of her life easily, but would she be able to back away from him?

  Yes. She would. She could.

  Couldn’t she?

  Something about Chance grabbed her attention and held it. Made her want to forget her three cardinal rules for heart-healthy living.

  Someone knocked on the door, and it swung open, a tall, bearded man walking in. “Ms. Sampson? I’m Dr. Jeffries. I hear you’ve been in an accident.”

  “Yes.” Rayne explained quickly, wishing she’d gone with her gut and stayed with Emma. No intrusive questions from a doctor she didn’t know and who didn’t know her, no waiting for a diagnosis she’d already received at the hospital, no ride back to the house with Chance.

  There he was again.

  Right where he shouldn’t be.

  At the forefront of her mind.

  Pitiful, considering all the other things she had to worry about.

  The doctor flashed a light in her eyes, asked questions she couldn’t answer, checked her reflexes and her heart.

  “Well, Ms. Sampson, aside from the bruising and soreness, you seem to be healthy.”

  “And the amnesia?”

  “Could be permanent, but most people regain at least some of their memories over time.”

  “How much time?”

  “Some people regain their memories in a few hours. For others, it takes weeks. Even months. The good news is that you’re alive. You can go on to build plenty of new memories. That’s not an opportunity everyone has.” His reminder hit home, the truth of how close she’d come to dying setting in as he said goodbye.

  If Chance hadn’t been out looking for her, how long would it have been before she was found?

  Too long.

  As much as she didn’t want to have him in her life, she couldn’t deny what he’d done for her. What he continued to do for her.

  “Knock, knock.” Chance stepped into the room, his dark hair falling over his forehead, his eyes seeming to glow in his deeply tanned face. He looked like a man who spent more time outdoors than indoors, his broad hands nicked and scarred, his muscles formed by manual labor rather than time in the gym.

  Handsome.

  Caring.

  Easy to talk to.

  All the things any woman would be happy to have in a partner.

  A woman who wasn’t her, she reminded herself firmly.

  “What are you doing in here?”

  “The nurse told me you were done. I figured I’d escort you out.”

  “I’ve been escorting myself for a long time, Chance. I’m sure I can find my own way out.”

  “Probably, but I had some news to share.” He helped her into her coat, his knuckles scraping along her jaw as he pulled her collar up around her neck.

  “I’m not two years old, Chance. I can handle this.” She stepped back, her skin hot from his touch.

  “I figured you could.”

  “So what’s the news?” Keep talking, keep walking, keep acting like his touch had no effect on you.

  “Remember the phone number you found on your cell phone? The police were able to trace the number to a prepaid phone.”

  “Do they know who it belonged to?”

  “Unfortunately, no. But they do know where it was purchased. Want to take a wild guess?”

  “Arizona?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Great. Except knowing where it was purchased doesn’t tell us who made the call.”

  “We’ll figure it out.”

  “You have a lot more confidence than I do.”

  “It’s not confidence. It’s faith.”

  Faith?

  She’d always thought she had plenty of faith, but over the years her passion for the things of God had faded. School, job, life, relationships—they’d all vied for her attention. Church had become one more thing to do. Prayer something she did quickly and in passing. God was there. She knew it. That had become enough.

  It shouldn’t have.

  She’d realized it after she’d broken up with Michael, but hadn’t quite known how to grasp what she’d lost.

  “You’re quiet.” Chance pressed a hand to her back, urging her out into the biting cold. Clouds blanketed the sky, painting everything in grayish light.

  “Just thinking about how easy it is for faith to get lost in the busyness of life.”

  “Not lost, Rayne. Just hidden for a while.”

  “It’s the same thing, isn’t it?”

  “The way I see it, if something is lost it’s past hope. Something that is hidden simply needs to be uncovered.” He helped her into the SUV, his hand on her waist, warm and strong and comforting.

  Just like his words.

  She felt filled up with him, with the words, with everything she shouldn’t want.

  Faith. Love. Home. Family. She’d thought she could have that all with Michael, but she’d been so wrong. How could she trust herself to make the right call now?

  That was easy enough to answer—she couldn’t.

  “You’re a dangerous man, Chance Richardson,” she said without meaning to, and he looked into her eyes, looked so long and so deep that she wondered if either of them would ever look away.

  “I was thinking the same about you, Goldilocks.” He stepped back, closed the door, locking her into the SUV, her heart thudding with all the things she shouldn’t feel.

  Rule number two breaking into a million pieces.

  Her cell phone rang, and she grabbed it, desperate for a distraction. “Hello?”

  “Finally. I’ve been trying to call you all day.” Michael’s voice filled her ear, carrying the weight of his disapproval.

  “Why?”

  “To see how you’re feeling. Despite what you might think, Rayne, I do still care.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t.”


  “Sarcasm doesn’t suit you.”

  “I wasn’t being sarcastic.” Cold air whipped into the SUV as Chance climbed in.

  “Then you were being rude.”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way. I wasn’t trying to be rude. I was just stating the facts.”

  “The facts are, you were injured in a car accident and you’re out in the middle of nowhere. No family to help. No friends.”

  “No you?” She was sure that was what he was thinking. Michael had always had an overblown sense of his importance in their relationship. It had only taken her three years to realize it.

  “Look, I didn’t call to argue. I called because your parents said you asked them not to fly out and—”

  “You spoke with my parents.”

  “Yes. Does that bother you?”

  “Michael—”

  “Tell him you’re not in the mood to listen to him whine.” Chance said.

  “Shhhhh.”

  “Rayne, if you’re not going to give your full attention to our conversation, I may as well end it. As you know, I have a busy schedule.”

  “Of course I know about your busy schedule. Our entire dating relationship had to be worked around it.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “Look, I’ve got a splitting headache. I’m exhausted. I don’t want to argue with you. I’m fine. I’ll continue to be fine. You don’t need to call me again to check on me.”

  “You’ve changed, Rayne.”

  “Only back into the person I was before I met you. Goodbye, Michael.” She hung up, pressed a hand to her throbbing head.

  What was the man thinking, calling her over and over again?

  “He’s trying to win you back.” Chance’s remark wasn’t a question, but Rayne answered anyway.

  “No. He just wants to make sure I’m okay.”

  “How many of your friends have called today?”

  “A few. They left messages, but I haven’t had a chance to call them back.”

  “And how many times have each of them called?

  “Once.”

  “Exactly. He’s trying to win you back.”

  She laughed. No way would Michael try to get her back.

  She came with Emma, and Emma was not in his plans.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “The idea that he’d want to get back together with me. We broke up because of him. He didn’t want to take responsibility for Emma. He thought I should find her a good home with a family better suited to her than we were.”

 

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