Chapter Fourteen
When a man of his height leaned into a woman it should, if not scare, at least intimidate her. She felt neither. And it had little to do with knowing she could take care of herself and more with trusting the SOB. That scared her. Who was she that she trusted him again? What the hell had he done to her? And how was she to undo it? With all the confidence she didn’t have, she put a hand on his chest and gently pushed him away, then stood, purposely sitting in the chair he’d just vacated. “Last night was last night. We don’t need to bring it up again.”
His head tipped to one side, his forehead crinkled as he regarded her. He seemed hurt, but that was ridiculous. Men like Cowboy, men in general, didn’t take sex seriously. His ego was bruised because she wasn’t making more of it. He probably thought it was a reflection on his sexual prowess. “Not that it wasn’t good,” she said, although why she felt the need to appease him was beyond her. “But it was what it was and we have more important things to focus on.”
“So, last night…”
“Like I said, was what it was.” Now could they get on with it?
“All right. If you’re happy to think of it like that. I need to know—”
“Wait, what do you mean ‘if I’m happy’? It’s what it was, two people satisfying basic needs.” It was just sex.
“Fine,” he said, humoring her. “Can we move on?”
Being spoken to like a child pissed her off. “Isn’t that how you look at it?”
“Absolutely.”
That condescending tone was going to get his head knocked off.
“Look,” he went on, “I gave up sleeping with women for shits and giggles a long time ago. If I don’t like someone, why would I want to wake up next to them? But I’m happy to go along with however you wish to think of it. I don’t want you to feel awkward or out of sorts when you’re around me.”
No way was he serious. “You’re full of shit.”
“Okay, I’m full of shit. Now can I finish what I’ve been trying to say?”
“When you stop doing that.”
“Doing what?” he said with so much sincerity it grated on her nerves.
“Stop making it like last night was…” She scrubbed her forehead with the palm of her hand, wondering if it was too early for a drink. “Stop pretending last night meant something. I don’t know what your game is, but stop it.”
He left the couch and headed into the bedroom. A few minutes later he returned with a flash drive in his hand. He showed it to her, then plugged it into his computer. Silently, he motioned her over with a crook of his finger. Curious, she complied. He pointed to the screen, clicked on an icon, and together they waited for a pdf file to load.
“Tell me something,” he said. “Why did you turn down being valedictorian for your high school?”
Her eyes darted from his computer to him. “How—”
He nodded toward the file that had finished downloading. Pushing him aside, she braced her hands on either side of the keyboard and read, mouth agape. Her father was going to get an earful. School records, employers, the gym memberships, right down to her parking tickets, all listed in black and white. Her father had even given him access to her banking information and, damn, she’d missed her Visa payment. She turned away from the screen. “I’m surprised my father didn’t give you a list of the men I’d dated.” An earful wasn’t sufficient. How could he do this to her—his own daughter?
“Those are on page four. Five men, most of them short term, all of them you broke it off, except for Josh, where it was amicable. Were they jerks, or are you not into relationships?”
Standing in front of a nearly seven-foot-tall man and seething wasn’t a good idea. Especially when her fist could easily connect with his crotch. She walked away and stepped out onto the balcony. The afternoon air was warm and did little to cool her off. She felt exposed, violated even. How could he? What bloody harm was she in that her dad needed to expose her like that?
Cowboy joined her on the balcony.
She glanced over her shoulder. “If you think that file lets you know me, you’re wrong.”
“No, but what you didn’t read was the last page. It’s a profile created with all that data.”
“A profile.” Like she was a common criminal. “Will wonders never cease? And what does the profile say? That except for today, I pay my bills on time?”
“You’re not afraid of hard work but won’t do anything you’re not good at. You shy away from adventure. All of your after-hours activity had a purpose, nothing simply for the fun of it. Your shark-diving trip was out of character, but you will step out of the box and out of your comfort zone if you think it will make you a better person. Want me to go on?”
“Wow, when the cops do up a profile they go all out. I can’t believe my father went through that much trouble.”
“You’re mistaken, Grace. He didn’t give me the file. My team did.”
She fisted her hands because if she didn’t, he’d be on his ass. “There were things in there that weren’t public knowledge, things only my father would have had access to.”
“Anything can be hacked. Don’t misunderstand—the cops have a file on you, but only because of your dad. It’s more his security dossier than anything else.”
“So you knew all that stuff about me before we met.” When he took a step toward her, she took one back. He had a psych profile on her. No wonder he knew what to say and when to say it. Her back hit the wall. Reaching behind her, she folded her fingers over the warm metal when what she wanted to do might get her arrested.
“I can see your mind working overtime.”
“Yeah, I bet you can. Your bloody file spells it out.”
“Right, and maybe if I’d done my job, I’d have read it beforehand.”
She released the railing, flexing her fingers to encourage blood flow. “When did you?”
“This morning after you left. Funny thing, it didn’t much say what I didn’t already know. Except that valedictorian thing. I figured a high achiever like you would go for something like that. I do, however, have my own theory on why you passed up the chance to stand at that podium.”
This time when he moved on her she stayed still. But she warned herself not to trust him, not to believe a word he had to say. As if that was enough to protect her. “What’s that?”
“I’m guessing you wrote that speech. You wrote it and showed it to a teacher who told you to tone down the world is a horrible place and be on your guard doom and gloom. He or she probably suggested you lighten up and paint an uplifting and bright future for the graduates.”
He’d guessed right. “Shut up,” she muttered under her breath. “I couldn’t do what she wanted. One of my classmates was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s disease. He wouldn’t make graduation. There were kids who couldn’t afford college and some whose rosy future was minimum wage in a department store. Not everybody got choices or a bright future and I didn’t think it fair to rub their noses in it. My speech focused on doing the most with what life gave you. Apparently reality had no place at commencements.”
He leaned his elbows on the railing. “Were you mad?”
“No. She explained she understood where I was coming from.” She gave a self-deprecating laugh. “And she knew my father. She told me if I didn’t learn to focus on the positive, the negative would eat me up inside.”
She turned and together they looked down at the River Walk. At the people strolling past and those seated at outdoor patios, drinking, eating, oblivious to the disappearance of the woman who, like that teacher, wanted Grace to live the positive and shelve the negative. But what had it gotten Jessie? That negative kept a person on their toes. Didn’t it? She glanced up at Cowboy. He hadn’t lied to her, that was true. But he hadn’t told her the truth either. “You really didn’t read that file until this morning?”
“Ask Monty when you see him. He’ll tell you I prefer to make my own judgment calls on people. I read those things if we’re dealing with nefarious characters, but when my job is to provide a safe house or a crate of cockroaches, I don’t find the need to understand our targets.”
“Cockroaches?”
“Long story, which I would rather not recall.” He shivered. “I hate bugs.”
She smiled, the idea of a man his size hating anything he could step on was too funny.
“Grace, I slept with you because I like you. You weren’t a convenience or a bonus. I should have walked or taken a cold shower, but you were so damn cute. And sexy. And sweet. I mean, you knew the words to all those corny songs. How could I not want you? Please don’t confuse my being paid to look out for you with my wanting you in my bed. Those are two very, very different things.”
She felt the heat off his skin through her own, thawing her resolve to stay mad at him.
He sighed. “I have to trust you and that’s not going to work if you don’t reciprocate that trust. I don’t do things by the book. You have to decide, right now, what’s more important—your integrity or finding out what happened to Jessie. This isn’t like your speech. I might do or say things your daddy can’t find out about. We’re a team, or we’re not anything at all.”
She understood how ICU operated, just as she firmly believed it was why her father had hired them to begin with. “Not a problem.”
“I mean it,” he said. “It might not be as easy as saying nothing. He could ask you straight out.”
“Geez, it’s not like you’re going to kill someone. I’m okay with this.” And she didn’t think her father would ask her. He’d be too busy yelling. “But I think it’s best he not know I’m helping.”
He cleared his throat. “He knows about the party. One more thing, and this one is a deal breaker, more important than trust.”
What could be more important than trust?
“You’re an independent woman. I respect that,” he said. “But it’s my way or the highway. If I tell you to do something, I expect you’ll do it.”
“I’m not stupid,” she argued.
“I didn’t say that. But if I say it’s too dangerous, then I have to know you’ll do as I tell you. Not because you’re stupid but because I have the training and even with all your tae kwon whatever, you don’t. Shooting at a target is a whole pack of something different when that target is breathing.”
“Have you ever shot anyone?” She’d blurted out the question, realizing too late that she might not want to know the answer.
He stood to his full height, the expression on his face unreadable. “Is that something you really want to know?”
Did she? “No.”
He nodded. “Am I in charge? Do we have a deal?” He held out his hand.
It was a no-brainer. For Jessie, she would work with him. But she had to get a final word in. “You understand my agreeing to this in no way means you can boss me around? Only that I’ll back off if the situation calls for it?”
“If I say the situation calls for it. I mean it, Grace. Your father and my boss will have my hide if something happens to you.”
Grudgingly, she took his hand. It enveloped hers. When she tried to pull away, he held on. Being cocooned inside his tight grip should have made her nervous. Yes, they’d slept together, but it didn’t mean she should allow him back into her personal space. Still, the warmth of his skin traveled from her hand up her arm. “Let’s go inside,” she said, trying once again to extricate her hand and shake off the urge to further bury herself in the safety of his arms. She reminded her muddled brain that she could take care of herself. This time, with a slow, lazy smile that said he’d won, he let her go.
The hotel phone rang the moment they stepped inside the room. As Cowboy answered, Grace retrieved her phone and noticed the missed call from her father. Clutching the phone to her racing heart, she prayed for good news and got none when Cowboy’s expression changed from a man who’d just gotten his way to a man who seriously wanted to hurt someone.
“Where?” he said, his knuckles turning white.
Forcing her fingers to open, she glanced down at her father’s number. Her thumb hovered over his name. What if they’d found Jessie? And the news wasn’t good?
“She’s with me” penetrated the buzzing in her ears. She forced her lungs to work and before he opened his mouth, her knees buckled. Strong arms caught her and helped her sit, then he went back to the phone. “Call me when you know more.” He hung up, quickly returning to her side. “You okay? What can I get you?”
“The truth.” Because like it or not, it’s what she had to hear. She looked him square in the eye, doing her best to hide her fear.
“Fair enough. They found a body. Five miles downstream from where Jessie’s car was recovered.”
She appreciated the fact that he didn’t sugarcoat it. It wouldn’t bring her back. “Is it her?”
When he said nothing, she repeated herself.
“They haven’t identified the body yet.”
“Why not?”
“It’s on its way to the morgue for positive identification.”
That made no sense. They had her picture. “They must know what she looks…” The blood drained from her body and all of a sudden a freezing cold seeped into her muscles. If they couldn’t ID, it was for one reason only. Instead, she took the analytical approach. She distanced herself from the image her brain kept wanting to show her. She made herself think like a reporter.
“This makes no sense. If she was in that car, why was her body down the river, five miles no less? Bodies sink after drowning. And this wasn’t an ocean. It can take weeks for them to float to the surface.”
“The river is warm this time of year. The warmer the water, the faster gases develop. Plus… an animal could have found the body and brought it to the surface. It was found in a reedy area.”
“Animals?” Her stomach roiled, the idea repulsive.
“She’d have been long dead by then. Don’t let your mind go there.”
How many more places was she to stop her mind from going to and how much longer could she keep doing it? “If it is Jessie they found…” She was going to lose it. She closed her eyes as impending tears built to a crescendo that would soon embarrass her. Swallowing hurt.
Those strong arms, the ones she’d wanted to entomb herself in, wrapped around her. She didn’t protest. While they didn’t strip her of the pain, it was good to know she wasn’t alone. She rested her head on his chest and allowed him to lean them back onto the sofa. Surprisingly it was his heartbeat that soothed her the most, the steady rhythm of a man who would see her through this. How she knew that she didn’t understand, but know it she did. Cowboy would be there for her. And either she wanted desperately to trust him or she was falling for a guy she’d just met. Either way, she was a fool.
* * *
From the beginning Cowboy had suspected Jessie wouldn’t be found alive. And even though they had no absolutes, he was betting the next call they got would confirm his suspicions. In Grace’s mind he was comforting her. Comforting each other was more the truth of it. He hadn’t seen Jessie in well over a decade, but to think that the young girl he’d risked everything for was gone was upsetting. Even more so if the family he’d saved her from turned out to have finished what Edward had begun.
“Did my father say anything else?”
“That wasn’t your father.” And that’s all he said. She’d know enough to read into it.
“Oh, then I’d better return his call.”
He tensed, waiting to see what she’d do. It was wrong to test her, but he had to be sure she’d stick to their bargain. Would she tell her father about the call? Or should Cowboy spell it out before she picked up that phone and dialed?
She gave a shaky sigh and made no attempt to reach for the phone right in front of her. He relaxed a little. Waited.
He’d had his misgivings about Irvine, but he appreciated that the woman in his arms had come to the same conclusion. Disappointed as she was in her father’s behavior, Cowboy hadn’t wanted to be the one to tell her the cop who raised her by the book had manipulated the situation to get ICU to help his investigation. He hadn’t been certain how she’d react, but she appeared to be taking it in stride. In fact, he’d go so far to say she’d been relieved. A shame her relief had to be short-lived by the news they’d just received.
“Maybe I should wait for him to call back. I’m not certain I can pretend to not know what’s happened. I may need you to field the call for me.”
Cowboy closed his eyes and pressed his lip to the top of her head. “You just let me know.”
“Cowboy?”
“Yes.”
“What do we do if it is her?”
He didn’t even have to think about that one. “We find her killer.”