THIRTEEN
Jess had no idea how she'd managed to get home, but she felt thankful as she pulled into the garage and put the Tahoe into park. She was still reeling from the fact that Kayne had suspected Gracie of being his daughter all along. Thinking back to that first time he’d met Gracie—the expression on his face when he’d looked at her standing in the foyer—it was as if he’d seen a ghost. From the very beginning, he'd only been interested in getting close to his daughter. She’d been a fool to think for even a moment that he’d been interested in her.
Jess shoved her foolish heartache aside and tried to wrap her mind around the possibility that Gracie was indeed his daughter. No matter how she looked at it, it made no sense. He’d told her his wife had killed their kids, that the baby's body had never been found. If Gracie were that baby, how was it possible she'd not only lived, but ended up more than five hundred miles away at an accident scene?
Lost in thought, Jess gasped in surprise when Kayne opened her door.
“It's just me, Jessica,” he said. “I'm not gonna hurt you.”
But he already had. And now he was threatening to destroy her family.
Mentally and physically numb, she could do little more than follow Kayne and the kids into the house.
***
Kayne wearily rubbed his forehead. “I think I have a migraine.”
With Trace’s help, Kayne had fixed the kids lunch while Jessica took them upstairs to get changed. Once they ate, Del had taken the kids downstairs to play. Kayne and Jessica remained, with Trace St. Mortiz to referee, trying to sort everything out. This was only made harder by the unwelcome Cody, who’d followed them home and proceeded to insinuate himself in the conversation. So far they’d gotten nowhere.
Jessica started to stand. “I'll get you some ibuprofen.”
He stayed her with a hand on her forearm. “I'll get it.” He headed toward Jessica's bathroom, needing a moment or two to himself.
“Remind me to be offended later,” she called after him.
Shit! Of course, he shouldn't know where she kept medication. However, a bathroom, the medicine cabinet especially, was the best place to learn about someone, and Kayne had taken advantage of the opportunity afforded him the other night.
He'd learned Jessica didn't take any prescriptions. The only sign of birth control had been an unopened box of novelty condoms that had expired. She used cinnamon flavored dental floss and baking-soda toothpaste. By the sheer number of choices of sea salt scrubs, bubble baths, and oil beads—the ones that were deadly if, God forbid, the slippery little suckers ever spilled out onto the floor—it appeared that she thoroughly enjoyed the oversized Jacuzzi tub on a regular basis. The array of natural sea sponges in a basket on the tub’s edge helped cement that theory. He had also discovered she used very little makeup or hair products, and that she loved the smell of almonds and vanilla. Both were in everything from her shampoo to her body lotion.
Kayne grabbed a couple Advil and swallowed them dry. As he walked back into the kitchen, he overheard Cody: “I don't give a shit who he thinks she is, I won't have you spending any more time with him.”
“Cody, please, you're not helping.”
He hated hearing the pleading in Jessica’s voice. It pissed him off that the dip-shit had a say in anything involving his daughter.
Kayne dropped back onto one of the stools and glared at Cody. “Why, exactly, are you here?” He understood why Del and Trace were present, but Cody was just pissing him off.
Cody stepped a little closer to Jessica. “To protect Jess.”
“Bullshit. Stay the hell out of my way,” Kayne growled with no small degree of malice. And away from my family! He barely managed to bite back the words. Christ Almighty, where had that thought come from?
God, he felt old. His adrenaline was metabolizing, and fear had buried its claws deep, refusing to let go. What if he was wrong? What if the necklace being found with Gracie really was some horrible coincidence? But his mind vehemently denied the possibility even as he thought it. He didn't believe in coincidences.
“Jessica, I'm so sorry, but I need to know more about what happened that night. How did this happen?” He pointed to the necklace he'd stretched out on the counter in front of him.
Jessica walked over and stood beside him. “What are you going to do when you realize she's not your daughter?” She reached out and laid her hand on his forearm. “Please don't do this.”
Kayne twisted away from her touch, shoved a hand in his back pocket, and with jerky movements, pulled out his wallet, and produced the photograph. “Look at it!” he said angrily. “The necklace is right there. There are no others like it, because I designed the fucking thing myself. In fact, the center diamond has a goddamned serial number engraved on it.” Oksana was forever taking her wedding bands off and forgetting them, so he'd incorporated her engagement ring into the pendant. “If anyone had bothered to run it, they would have discovered its connection with the open homicide investigation.” He'd given all the details to the investigating detective.
Kayne had obsessed about that damned necklace, and the detective had shown little interest in a missing piece of jewelry. Holy shit, even then, gut instinct was telling him he needed to find what happened to that pendant. He hadn't been able to see past his grief to do more than leave it to the investigators, who were busy trying to pin the murders on him and find his baby girl’s body. But that was the problem, wasn't it? They'd been looking for a body. They'd scoured dumpsters and landfills, dragged waterways. They'd done everything to recover a body, when they should have been looking for a living child.
Trace cleared his throat. “I was the investigator on that case. We ran the serial number, hoping to identify the bodies and locate a next of kin for Gracie. We never got a hit. I don't know who told you they put it into NCIC, but they lied.”
Kayne knew that if Santa Barbara had entered the serial number, the national database would have notified both towns that the other agency had interest in the serial number. Just one more reason to hate the detective that had tried to nail him for murder.
“Tasha looks just like her sister, Natalia. Gracie has the same birthmark as Tasha. Who the hell else could she be?”
Trace leaned in to look at the picture. “What the hell?” He glanced at Kayne then back to the photo.
“That's my wife and children. That is Natalia, Tasha's older sister.” Kayne pointed to the toddler on Oksana’s lap. The photo had been taken only days before his world tilted. “Natalia was a few months younger than... Gracie when this was taken, and that is Gracie.” He pointed to the baby in Oksana’s arms.
Del walked into the kitchen. “Hey guys, I’ve got a callout. I’m gonna have to take off.” He paused to look at the photograph. “Wow. She looks just like Gracie.”
“No she doesn't!” Jessica shouted. “That's Gracie downstairs with her siblings, not Tasha. That's my daughter.” Jessica burst into tears. “That's. My. Daughter.”
“Hey, come here.” Kayne tried wrapping an arm around Jessica, but she sidestepped him.
“Don’t!” She held up a staying hand when Cody moved toward her.
Kayne gave Cody a back-the-fuck-off glare.
Everything in Kayne ached to pull Jessica into his arms and keep her close, but she’d made it clear she didn’t want to be touched.“Hey, don't cry,” he soothed. “We're going to figure this out.”
“There's an easy way to confirm Gracie’s identity,” Trace said. “A DNA test is simple and quick. Three days, and we’ll have an answer. There's no sense in getting worked up until we know either way.”
“No way!” Cody grabbed Jessica’s arm. “You are not agreeing to any such thing. If she is this Ta-whatever, then this is proof he killed his wife and kids, and something went wrong. Jessica you need to stay the hell away from him before you end up dead too.”
Kayne had never taken a life, not even in the line of duty, but holy Christ he'd like to beat Cody to within an inch of his.
“Kayne, look at me.” Trace stepped between Kayne and Cody. “Look me in the eye and swear to me you had nothing to do with the deaths or that baby’s survival.”
“I swear to God, I did not.” Kayne didn’t hesitate.
Trace studied him a long moment then nodded. “We searched for a relative for months.” He went on to explain how they'd eventually identified the woman, since she’d been thrown from the car, but the male driver and any identification he might have had burned beyond recognition when the vehicle exploded. Though they’d been able to pull a VIN off the vehicle, it had come back listed as an Owner Notice of Sale. They’d contacted the previous owner, who’d only been able to tell them that he’d sold it to a young man who’d paid cash.
“You know, the craziest thing about the whole accident,” Trace said, “Was that there was no sign of a car seat. From the radio transmissions, we know the driver was still in the car and the woman went through the window and was dead on impact. So how in the hell did that baby get out of the car and next to the woman without a scratch on her?”
Cody laughed. “Obviously Jarred pulled her out. The seat had melted in the fire.”
“No, there was no car seat.” Trace’s voice was adamant. “In fact, there were no signs she'd been in the accident at all. Never made sense.”
Hearing that sent a chill down Kayne's spine. What the hell had really happened that night?
***
Kayne caught Jessica in the hallway a few minutes later. She'd gone downstairs to check on the children. He wanted to see Tasha so badly his chest ached but knew Jessica needed a few moments to herself, so he'd stayed put. Mostly. He'd finally had enough of Cody's death glares and stepped into the hallway, only to realize Jessica was leaning against the wall.
“Hey, how are you holding up?” Though his voice was quiet, it startled her.
“How do you think I'm holding up?” She looked away and furiously tried to wipe tears from her face.
Christ, he hated to see her cry. “Jessica, I'm so sorry.” Kayne tried to take her in his arms, but she backed quickly away.
“Don't. Just. Don't!” She warded him off with her hands. “I was just fine before you ever showed up.”
Yeah, that was probably true, but he hadn't been. “I'm scared too.” God, that statement didn't even begin to touch the surface of the fear he felt right now.
“Mama?” Maddy's voice interrupted.
“Hey, sweet pea, where are your sisters and brother?” Kayne wanted to give Jessica a moment to compose herself. He couldn't tell how much Maddy had heard, but damnit, he wanted to keep them out of this as much as possible.
“Ash has them on the stairs. It's nap time, and I was wondering if I should put them in bed or let them skip.”
“No, put them down for nap. We don't need five-o'clock meltdown on top of everything else,” Kayne answered automatically. “When you're done, you can pick a movie and watch it downstairs. Nothing over PG.”
Cody stepped into the hallway. “Wow, still trying to make family decisions, I see.”
“Maddy, go on.” Kayne ignored Cody. He watched to make sure she actually headed upstairs before he dealt with Cody.
“Not gonna run up and do it yourself, Jarred?” Cody sneered. “Oops, there for a moment we both forgot who you were.”
“Cody! Stop it!” Jessica cried. “Just Stop!”
“When are you going to wake up? He's trying to destroy everything we built,” Cody spouted, pushing Kayne to the edge of his limit. “You think it's a coincidence he landed in Payson? Use your brain for once. See him for what he is.”
“And what, exactly, am I?” Kayne ground the words out through a tightly clenched jaw.
Cody’s smile was far too smug. “You mean other than a child killer? Not only did you murder your own family, you're the reason Jarred is dead. If Gracie is who you claim, that is.”
He turned back to Jessica. “You think about that, Jessica. He's the real reason your husband's gone, and your kids are fatherless.”
“I have never killed anyone in my life, but today isn’t over yet.” Kayne ushered Jessica back into the kitchen. There was no way he was leaving her alone with that asshole, and he wasn’t sticking around to listen to anything else Cody had to say.
“Did you just threaten me?” Cody shouted.
Kayne ignored him.
But Cody wouldn’t let it go. “How old did you say your wife was when you married her? She doesn't look much more than a child herself. You sure seem interested in little girls.”
Kayne stumbled, momentarily forgetting how to walk. Cody couldn’t have hit the mark better if he’d tried. Eight years his junior, Oksana had turned eighteen a mere three days before their wedding. A fact Kayne hadn’t learned until he’d met her face-to-face.
Son of a bitch! He shouldn't have to be the one to leave.
With jerky movements, he grabbed the photo and shoved it into his wallet, then the wallet into his pocket. Kayne walked around the corner, took the long hallway around to the garage, and left.
He had never in his life truly wanted to kill anyone until that moment. He had to get out of there before he gave into that desire. He wasn't abandoning Jessica and the kids with that asshole, he assured himself. He was taking them out of the line of fire. Cody clearly wasn’t going to give up, and, for whatever reason, Jessica wouldn’t send him away. Besides, Trace would keep the asshole in line.
At the highway junction, he headed north away from his empty house. He couldn’t stand the thought of being there right now. He'd just left the one and only place he wanted to be. Christ Almighty! Tasha was alive, and, by some miracle, he'd found her.
***
Jess rounded on Cody the moment the garage door closed behind Kayne. “Who the hell do you think you are? This is not your house! These are not your children! I'm not your wife!” And he's not a goddamned pedophile! She couldn't even voice such a vile accusation without being ill. “You had no right to treat him like that!”
“The hell I don't. I'm not letting someone like that into your life.”
“It's not your fucking choice!” Jess shouted. Granted, she'd known Cody had had a crush on her way back in high school, and after Jarred had died he'd encouraged her to start dating again. But not once had she ever thought he'd meant start dating him. Yet that was the only logical explanation. Had Cody been waiting around for her all this time? She nearly scoffed at the idea. He changed girlfriends more often than he changed underwear.
Jess picked up her cell phone and tried calling Kayne, but it went to voice mail. She hung up and tried again. And again. She was leaving a message after her fourth try, pleading with him to call her back, to let her know he was okay, when the text came through. Code-4. Cop speak for “I'm okay.” Not bloody likely!
“What is your problem, Cody?! You know what, forget it. Get out of my house and don't come back.”
He crossed his arms defiantly. “Don't you talk to me that way; I have every right to be here.”
“The hell you say. Get. Out. Now.”
Trace stepped between them. “Cody, she asked you to leave. Now.”
“Fine.” Cody glared at Trace for a long moment. “For tonight. But we're not through. Not even close, and you'd better get that through your head. I'm done playing this cat and mouse game with you.” With that, Cody stormed out.
What the hell was that supposed to mean?