CHAPTER FOUR
Jake sat in the bar and glared out the window to the snow-covered slopes of Mt. Bachelor. Grey clouds hovered over the craggy peaks of the Cascades, and a fine, misting rain drizzled from the sky, melting the snow. The temperature was nearly forty degrees, and the extended forecast called for a warming trend.
“Wonderful,” Jake muttered sarcastically, signaling to the bartender for another drink. He sipped his beer slowly, and his mood deteriorated with the weather. The raucous noise from the bar’s sound system didn’t interest him, and he couldn’t care less about the skiing exhibition on the big screen.
Other patrons of the bar, drenched skiers in wet jackets and sopping wool hats, seemed to find solace in grumbling together, drinking and even laughing about the rain.
Jake didn’t. He’d spent too many weeks planning this trip. He was anxious and coiled tight as a spring. And, though he was loath to admit it, his thoughts kept turning to Kimberly.
Her image had been with him ever since he’d left her two nights before, lingering with him like the evocative scent of an expensive perfume. Try as he might, he couldn’t forget her wise blue-green eyes, gently curving lips or the sweet seduction of her voice. He couldn’t help feeling he should’ve stayed in Portland and started working on the mess with her ex-husband.
At the thought of Fisher, he pulled his eyebrows together. Glancing outside to the dismal day, he wondered if God were getting even with him and the rest of the noisy crowd in the smoky bar.
He swore pointedly under his breath, finished his drink, left some bills on the polished bar and strode through the throng that had gathered as fast as his ski boots would allow.
Outside, the weather was miserable. Melting icicles dripping in tempo with the soft fall of the rain. Ignoring the conditions, he stomped into his ski bindings and jabbed his poles into the ground. His right ski caught in the slush, but he made it to the four-man lift and, without a word to the other souls braving the rain, let the chair carry him over the tops of the drooping pine trees to the summit.
Once there, he skied down the ramp and stopped, surveying the lower slopes. Partially hidden by low-hanging clouds, the run was wet and slushy.
Cold rain ran down his neck and settled into his bones. He blew on his wet gloves, but his fingers were frigid. Glowering furiously at the dark heavens, he found no relief in the ominous sky.
There was no reason on earth to stay here any longer. He thought again of Kimberly, shoved his poles into the snow and took off, nearly flying down the run. He may as well return to Portland, he decided fatalistically as he headed for the lodge. At least in the city he could do something worthwhile.
And he would see her again. For the first time that miserable afternoon, Jake smiled.
* * *
Kimberly placed a set of statements for the Juniper account on the security cashier’s desk in the operations section of the trust department. “If you could just double-check the dividends—make sure that everything was posted last quarter,” she said to Charlene, who handled all the bond and stock transfers.
“Anything wrong?” Charlene asked. Red-haired and quick, she hardly ever made a mistake.
“Nothing that I know of, but Mr. Juniper has some questions. He’s sure the dividends and interest were down for the quarter. I looked it over and it seems fine, but if you’d double-check it, I’d appreciate it.”
“You got it,” Charlene said as the phone in her office started ringing.
Kimberly headed back to the administrative offices and nearly bumped into Marcie. “Oh, good, I was looking for you,” Marcie said. “Mr. Compton’s scheduled a meeting for all of the officers at four-thirty in the boardroom.”
Checking her watch, Kimberly said, “I’ll be there.”
“Good. Oh, and that list of attorneys you wanted? The ones associated with this bank? I left it on your desk.”
“Thanks, Marcie,” Kimberly said as she turned the corner and came face-to-face with Robert. Her footsteps faltered, but she managed to keep walking.
Robert glanced lazily her way, then turned back to the cluster of men he was with. Tall and distinguished-looking, he was surrounded by a group of bank bigwigs. Eric Compton, vice president for the trust department, Bill Zealander, Aaron Thornburn, president of the bank, and Earl Kellerman, advisor to the board, were gathered together near the elevator doors.
Robert’s blue eyes flicked back to Kimberly’s quickly again before returning to Thornburn. A cold needle of dread stabbing her.
“I’ll be in my office,” she said to Marcie.
She’d just settled into her chair when Robert slid into the room and closed the door quietly behind him.
For the first time since the divorce, Kimberly was alone with him. “Hello, Kimberly.” His voice was just as melodic as she remembered.
“What do you want?” she asked. She leaned back in her chair to stare up at him.
He slung one leg over the corner of her desk. “Now that’s a silly question.”
Her heart began to pound. “I mean, what’re you doing here?”
“Oh—” he waved and frowned “—nothing important. Just a little bank business.”
“And it’s finished? Then you can leave.”
“In a minute.” He folded his hands over his knee. “I thought you and I should talk—and not through our attorneys.” He smiled warmly, and Kimberly saw a glimpse of the man she’d married—charming and sophisticated.
“Talk about what?”
“Our daughter.”
Kimberly braced herself. “What about her?” she asked, feigning innocence.
“You know she’s better off with me.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Kimberly,” he whispered in a way he thought was seductive. It made her furious.
“Just say what you have to say, Robert.”
He looked perturbed. “I want my daughter, Kim. She needs a father.”
“And a mother.”
“Stella—”
“Isn’t her mother. I don’t want to hear about Stella. I’m Lindsay’s mother.”
His color began to rise, and he arched an imperious brow. “There comes a time when a man needs to know he’s not ... so mortal, I guess.”
“You should have thought of that before.”
His eyes blazed, and he bit out, “I won’t rest until she’s with me, y’know.”
The arrogance of the man! “So, what is this—some kind of threat?”
“No,” he said, his smooth brow creasing. “Threats don’t seem to work with you.”
“Then what?” Dear Lord, she hoped he couldn’t hear her heart pounding.
“I want you to reconsider. Think what’s best for the child. Stella and I can offer her anything money can buy.”
“Maybe that’s not enough. I give her love, Robert. I’m the one who wanted her, remember? You weren’t too interested in having children. Especially a daughter.”
“I know, I know,” he said with maddening calm. “But things have changed.”
“You mean since Stella can’t give you a son?”
“That’s a cold way of putting it.”
“Too bad. It’s the truth. It doesn’t change things. We had an agreement, Robert.” She stood, hoping to gain some advantage from the added inches in height. “And I expect you to honor it. Lindsay stays with me.”
“You know, Kimberly, you’re too stubborn for your own good.”
“I don’t think so.”
“I could make it worth your while.”
“What’s this?” she asked, incredulous. “A bribe? Get real, Robert! I don’t want your money. If I had, I would have made claims during the divorce.”
He clucked his tongue. “Kimberly, Kimberly,” he said, rising to his feet and towering over her. “You just don’t get it, do you? I want my daughter.”
“Do you? Well, why is it that never once have I heard you say you love her?”
His mouth clamped shut, and all the friendliness left his eyes. “You know, you might be singing a different tune if you lost your job.”
She thought about his influence with the bank. “I’d get another one.”
“It might not be that easy,” he said.
“Your scare tactics don’t work with me, Robert. You said so yourself.” She leaned across her desk, propping herself up with her hands, and forced her features to remain calm while deep inside she was quaking to her very soul. “If you care anything for Lindsay, don’t do anything that might hurt her. Consider her first.”
“Oh, like you’ve done.”
“Yes!”
A sharp rap interrupted them, and Robert’s bodyguard, a burly blond man with a ponytail, poked his head into the room. “You said to remind you of the meeting with Schuster,” he said, almost bowing.
Kimberly thought she might get sick.
“I’ll be right there,” Robert told him. He glanced down at Kimberly’s hands on the desktop, and for the first time she noticed the document on her desk—the list of attorneys connected to the bank and therefore to Robert.
She didn’t even bother being sly; she just turned the page over before he could read too much.
His cold eyes held hers. “I guess I’ll see you in court.”
She didn’t flinch. “I guess so.”
“And you’ll lose, you know. You’ll lose big.”
“I don’t think so.”
“We’ll see.”
She couldn’t resist one parting shot. “At least I don’t have to travel with a bodyguard.”
“Maybe you should.” With a tight smile he left the room. The second the door closed, Kimberly collapsed into her chair. What was he planning? How could he be so self-assured? No court would grant him custody—right?
Biting her lip, she flipped the paper over and scanned the list of names, searching for one. But Jake McGowan wasn’t listed.
She felt a tiny sense of relief, but it was short-lived. She knew she’d heard Jake’s name before. Diane had mentioned him, of course, but someone else had, as well. If she hadn’t heard Jake’s name from someone in the bank, then where? Certainly not from Robert. Or had she?
Her throat went dry with dread. She sensed that Jake had run across Robert before, though he hadn’t said as much. He seemed to have a knowledge and interest in Robert that went beyond the usual curiosity derived from reading the paper. Had Jake been Robert’s attorney? Had Robert double-crossed him?
“Oh, stop it,” she whispered, angry with herself. Shuddering, she rubbed her arms. Robert meant business. And she was scared. More scared than she’d ever been in her life.
The intercom buzzed. Marcie said, “It’s Mr. Juniper on line two again. Should I, uh, tell him to call back?”
“No . . .” Kimberly shook her head as if Marcie could see through the walls. “I’ll get it.” She picked up the phone, glad for the distraction. “Hello?”
“She’s at it again!” Henry Juniper exclaimed.
“Who’s at what?”
“Carole’s going for blood, I tell you. She’s going to contest the entire will—claims she needs an additional three hundred thousand for taking care of Dad during the last couple of years. And then she wants her legal fees paid on top of that! It’s positively ludicrous.”
“Please, slow down, Mr. Juniper,” Kimberly said evenly, though she was still distracted. “Why don’t you start at the beginning?”
As Henry Juniper launched into his tale of woe, she listened, but her gaze was fixed on the picture of Lindsay propped on the corner of her desk. Her fingers curled tightly around the telephone, and her jaw set. For the first time in his life, Robert wouldn’t win. The stakes were just too damn high.
* * *
Hours later she’d calmed down. The evening with Lindsay had been special, and she’d tucked the child into bed later than usual, enjoying every waking moment with her.
Only when Lindsay had yawned and repeatedly rubbed her eyes had Kimberly done her motherly duty and turned out the lights in Lindsay’s sleeping loft.
Now, her back propped against the couch, an old quilt tossed over her shoulders, Kimberly sat on the floor in the front of the fire. She tried to concentrate on the magazines spread open on her lap but couldn’t. Her mind was working overtime—with thoughts of Robert and Jake. Robert’s threats kept pounding in her brain, and she kept them at bay by hoping Jake could help her. At the thought of him she smiled, though the situation was far from happy.
“Mommy?” Lindsay’s voice filtered down from the loft.
Kimberly was on her feet in an instant. “What is it, honey?” she called, climbing the stairs two at a time.
Sitting up in her bed rubbing her eyes, Lindsay complained, “I had another bad dream.”
“It’s over now, sweetheart.”
“But it was scary.” Tears gathered in Lindsay’s eyes.
“I know.” Kimberly sat on the edge of Lindsay’s twin mattress and smoothed her tousled hair. Wrapping her arms around Lindsay’s shoulders, Kimberly whispered, “Just think happy thoughts like rainbows and dinosaurs and snow and puppies—”
“Can I have one?” Lindsay asked, her tears forgotten.
The great debate, Kimberly thought. “Someday.”
“When?”
“I don’t know. When you’re older.”
“Like tomorrow?”
“Like in a few years when you’re old enough to feed it, walk it and clean up after it.”
“I just want to love it,” Lindsay argued, her lower lip protruding in a tired pout. “Daddy said he’d give me a puppy.”
Kimberly’s heart froze. Every muscle in her body went rigid. “He did?”
“Mm-hmm.” Lindsay was nodding off again. “When he called me.”
“He called you? Here? Again?” Kimberly repeated, trying not to sound alarmed, though cold panic was taking hold. All of his threats echoed through her head. Would he try something as foolish as kidnapping his own daughter? Certainly not unless the custody battle went against him. Her throat was suddenly tight, the words hard to form. “Did Arlene talk to him?”
Lindsay skidded lower under the covers. “No. She was in the basement.” Turning her face into her pillow, Lindsay yawned.
“Has Daddy called before when I’m not here?”
But Lindsay didn’t answer. Breathing softly, she snuggled deeper between the sheets and drifted to sleep. Kimberly stared at the sleeping child and wanted to cry. She’d always wanted children, but even that overpowering desire to become a mother hadn’t prepared her for the depth of her feelings for this sometimes spoiled, often precocious, but always precious daughter.
After dropping a kiss on Lindsay’s tangled crown, she silently walked downstairs. So Robert had called. So what? He had every right to talk to his daughter. There was no need to panic. But the memory of her own conversation with Robert left her chilled to the bone.
She poured herself a glass of water, then set the teakettle on the stove. Gazing out the window, she wondered if she should just give up the fight, grab Lindsay and a few of her belongings and flee. And run where? California? Canada? Mexico? Her head began to throb. She pressed the cold glass to her forehead.
The kettle shrilled loudly, and Kimberly switched off the stove and reached for it just as the doorbell rang.
She glanced at the clock. It was after nine. Who would be braving the rain and wind at this time of night?
Robert!
And his entourage of bodyguards . . .
Her heart dropped like a stone, then she managed to pull herself together. Robert was in for the fight of his life. Steeling herself, she set the kettle down and marched back through the living room, ready to lambast the man.
She peeked through the arched window carved in the front door, and her knees threatened to collapse as she saw Jake standing in the protection of the porch, his breath fogging in the cold air. Dressed in faded denim jeans, a steel-gray sweater and blue ski jacket, Jake reached for the bell again, then glanced at the window, where his gaze touched hers.
A smile warm as a southern breeze slashed across his chin.
Kimberly fumbled with the lock, then threw the door open. “Thank God it’s you,” she said, clinging to the knob so she wouldn’t impulsively rush into his arms like an idiot.
He actually chuckled. “You missed me?”
“A little,” she lied. “Well, maybe more than a little.” Her throat grew thick, and she felt hot tears of relief well in the corners of her eyes.
Jake’s smile faded. “What is it?”
For a second she didn’t trust her voice. She closed the door and leaned heavily against the cool wood panels. “It’s Robert,” she admitted, clearing her throat. “I saw him today—he was ... pretty determined.”
“To get his daughter back?”
“Right.” Her throat swelled again. “He wasn’t too subtle.”
“He threatened you?” Jake demanded. His face became a hard mask.
“Warned me, I think, would be more like it. When the doorbell rang, I thought you were him. I’d even gone so far as to think he’d just bulldoze his way in here, grab Lindsay and disappear in the night, so . . .” She glanced up at him and managed a tremulous smile. “Just give me a minute to pull myself together, okay?”
“Sure.” To her surprise, he reached forward and surrounded her with his arms, drawing her close against his wet jacket. His strength and warmth seemed to permeate his clothes and flow into her. She didn’t think twice, just rested her cheek against the steadying wall of his chest. His scent enveloped her, an earthy smell that reminded her of pine forests and clean skin.
Listening to the steadying sound of his breathing, she wouldn’t acknowledge that he interested her as a man. Being attracted to him was just too complicated. And dangerous. Still, being held and comforted, feeling his breath stir her hair, caused her skin to tingle.
“You okay?” he asked gently.
She nodded against his jacket, wondering why she saw this roguish, cynical man as some kind of knight in shining armor. The fantasy made her smile. He’d die a thousand deaths if he knew.
She lifted her head and slowly stepped out of his embrace. “I, uh, thought you were out of town,” she said, embarrassed that she’d let down her reserve, that he’d caught sight of a vulnerable side of her.
“I’m back.”
“Obviously,” she said dryly. “Look, I didn’t mean to fall apart on you—”
“You didn’t.”
“Yeah, I did.” She nodded.
He grinned again, and she felt the stupid urge to smile back at him. “Okay, you did. Now, tell me what happened.”
“Can we wait a little on the heavy stuff?” she said, still trying to calm down. “I’ll be okay, but I need a few minutes.”
“Sure.” He turned his palms up. “Whatever you want.”
For the first time, she really looked at him, noticing the water spots on his shoulders and his wet hair. “No umbrella?”
His grin twisted. “I’m an Oregonian. We don’t use those things. The rain and I are well acquainted, I just spent a couple of days wiping off my goggles up at Mt. Bachelor.”
“Oh, so you’re a skier?”
His eyes flashed devilishly. “You wouldn’t have guessed it this week.” He glanced around the room and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “When the weather report said ‘more of the same,’ I decided to pack it in. I have plenty of work, and I thought we could pick up where we left off.”
“Now?”
“No time like the present.” Bending one knee against the hearth, he rubbed his hands together, then placed his palms near the flames. Firelight caught in his hair, reflecting on the dark strands and casting golden shadows over his angular features. Glancing over his shoulder, he said, “Relax, I won’t bite.”
“Is that a promise?”
“Yes.” His eyes twinkled. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I think so.”
“Can we get started?”
She nodded, rubbing her hands together. “It’s going to be difficult, you know. Telling you my life story.”
He snorted. “You’d better get used to the idea. We’ll be spending a lot of time together.”
Somehow that was, comforting.
“I’ll have to know about you—and Robert—and anything you think is important, no matter how ‘difficult’ it is to talk about.”
“I see.”
“You want to back out?”
“No,” she said sharply. “We’ve got a deal. Remember?”
“Right.”
Despite her uneasiness, she felt the corners of her mouth lift. There was something about him that made her want to smile, and yet there was a part of him, a dark, sensual side that touched her deep inside. “So . . . would you like something warm—a cup of coffee or tea, or maybe something stronger? I think I’ve got ... eh, I don’t really know,” she said with a shrug. “Maybe vodka?”
“Anything.”
He followed her down the short, scarred wooden floor of the hallway leading to a tiny kitchen.
“Is Lindsay already in bed?” he asked as she poured hot water into mugs.
“For the second time.” She told him about Lindsay’s nightmares and sighed. “They began last summer, a couple of months before she started kindergarten. Coffee or tea?”
“Coffee—so she goes to school every day?” he asked.
“Half days. Arlene picks Lindsay up after lunch and brings her home for her nap. They spend their time here unless Arlene decides to run errands or take Lindsay to the park to feed the ducks.”
“And Lindsay likes Arlene.”
“Adores her.”
“You’re sure?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“And school. Does she like it?”
“Yes—and her teacher is a dream. What is this, the third degree?” she asked as she handed him a steaming mug.
“Not yet. Just the preliminaries.” He took an experimental sip from the cup. “Believe me, it gets worse.”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” she murmured, motioning toward a small round table with two chairs. “Please, sit down.”
Jake twisted a cane-backed chair around and straddled it, leaning forward. “So, tell me about Arlene.”
“Why?”
“She’s Lindsay’s babysitter. That might be a sore point with Robert. He might bring up something about your work and leaving his daughter in the care of an elderly woman.”
Kimberly sipped her tea. “I wouldn’t call Arlene elderly to her face if I valued my life,” she said.
Jake grinned. “I’ll remember that. You trust her?”
Kimberly almost laughed. “I’ve known her all my life. She’s a friend of my mother’s. They grew up together in the Midwest before Mom and Dad moved to California.”
“She’s married?”
Nodding, Kimberly set her tea bag in a saucer. “Lyle’s her husband. He was a longshoreman, but he retired a couple years ago when he hurt his back.”
“So Arlene watches Lindsay for the money?”
Kimberly bristled at the implication. “The money really doesn’t matter. Arlene loves my daughter. Lindsay is the granddaughter she never had.” She set her cup on the table and forced her eyes to Jake’s. “You met her the other night—what do you think?”
“Just showing you a preview of what the courtroom will be like,” he said, his face growing sober. “If it gets that far. Believe me, it’s not going to be a picnic. Not for you. Or Lindsay.”
“I know.” She felt the same nervous jitters in her stomach she always did when she thought about the court date looming ahead. “I wish I could avoid it. I don’t like the thought of fighting over Lindsay, or hanging my dirty laundry out where everyone can see it. Robert’s name is in the paper enough.”
A dark cloud seemed to shadow Jake’s eyes. But it passed quickly. “Maybe we can avoid that,” he suggested.
“How?”
“If we can convince Robert to drop the case—”
Kimberly laughed bitterly. “Impossible. I’ve tried. When it comes to Lindsay, we don’t see eye to eye.”
“But he gave you custody once.”
“Yeah,” she said, sighing. “When he wanted the divorce so that he could marry Stella. That was before he knew she couldn’t bear children. It’s ironic,” she added sadly. “He didn’t want a child, and the fact that Lindsay was a girl only made it worse. But suddenly, now that Stella can’t conceive, he’s interested in Lindsay again.” She explained about seeing Robert at the bank and recounted the meeting to an entranced Jake. Kimberly saw the tensing of his muscles, the wariness in his eyes.
“Wonderful man,” he said finally.
“I thought so once,” she admitted, wondering how she could have been so naïve. Feeling suddenly cold, she rubbed her arms and asked, “Have you ever been married?”
He frowned into his palm and his jaw tightened. “It didn’t last long. Probably a mistake from the beginning.”
Surprised, she glanced up and saw pain flicker in his eyes. A cold spot settled in her heart. Jake obviously loved his wife very much.
“She’s gone now,” he said, clipping the words out, his voice husky. “Killed in a car accident a few years ago. It happened not long after the divorce.”
Her heart went out to him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault.”
“I know, but—”
“I’d rather not talk about it,” he said darkly. Shifting uncomfortably in his chair, he added, “Besides, I didn’t come here to discuss my personal life.”
“No, you’re here for mine.”
“Right. So, what about yours? Let’s start with Robert.”
Kimberly’s stomach twisted.
“Do you still love him?”
Her gaze flew to his. “What kind of question is that? He’s remarried and—”
“Do you still love him?”
“Of course not.”
He lifted a dark brow.
Instantly outraged, she said, “Would I be fighting him so hard if I still cared about him?”
“I don’t know. Sometimes relationships are complicated. I just thought we should start with the basics.”
“And I thought I told you I’m not sure I ever loved him.”
His gaze didn’t falter. “Okay. Now, the other side of the coin. Do you hate him?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“He’s Lindsay’s father—I can’t forget that.”
Jake snorted. “A man comes by and threatens to take your child away and you can’t forget he’s the kid’s father.”
Her fists clenched impotently.
“This isn’t going to be a walk in the park, you know,” he said kindly. “It could get pretty bloody.”
“I realize that.”
“Then tell me, what kind of a man is Fisher?”
“Relentless,” she said quickly, “and single-minded. When he wants something, he goes after it.”
He tented his fingers under his chin. “Tell me about him—this relentless side of his nature.”
Her hands shook a little as she picked up her cup. She sipped her tea, found it tepid and set the cup back on the table. “For example, if he wanted your law practice, he’d find a way to get it. He’s incredibly patient, and he’d do whatever he had to do, wait however long it took to make you see that it was in your best interests to sell to him, whether you wanted to or not.”
The lines near the corner of Jake’s mouth tightened.
“So, now that he’s zeroed in on having Lindsay come live with him, he won’t back down. Diane already told me he doesn’t have a chance, and yet I don’t believe it. Robert’s like a cat—he always lands on his feet.” She bit her lower lip. “And sometimes his claws are extended.”
Jake surveyed her thoughtfully. “What was it like being married to him?”
She frowned, feeling all the old pain. “At first it was wonderful—at least I thought it was—but that all changed fairly quickly.”
“Why?”
She lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. I suppose I began to bore him.”
One side of his mouth lifted, and his gaze softened. “I find it hard to think of you as boring.”
“Well, he lost interest, and then there were all those stories about him. You know, rumors tying him to everything that’s wrong in the city.”
Jake’s stare grew stern. “You don’t believe he’s part of organized crime in Portland.”
“No.”
“But you’re not sure.”
“He’s Lindsay’s father,” she said automatically.
“What does that have to do with my question?”
Kimberly tossed her hair away from her face and thought long and hard. For years she’d heard the rumors about Robert, but never would believe he was as horrible as he’d been painted. “Maybe I’m incredibly naïve, but I lived with the man. I won’t dispute he walks a thin line with the law, and he’s probably even bent it on occasion. But I can’t believe he’s a part of anything as sinister as the mob.”
Jake scowled. “You’re right on one count. You are incredibly naïve.”
She bit at the inside of her lip. “Well, it’s hard to think that the man you married . . .” She shuddered.
“Go on.”
“As I said, I don’t know what all he’s involved in, but he did change about the time of that police investigation.”
“Change? How?”
She couldn’t really explain it. “He grew more secretive, and some of his business acquaintances changed.”
Jake was staring at her so hard that his gaze seemed to cut through to her soul. She rubbed her fingers together nervously.
“What acquaintances?” he asked so quietly she barely heard the question.
“I didn’t know them, never really met them, but I got the feeling . . .” She lifted her eyes to his. “That Robert’s business interests had shifted. Maybe it was all in my mind, but, I swear, he changed.”
Jake rubbed his chin. “You never heard any new names?”
“No—he didn’t confide in me.”
The seconds ticked by, and Jake didn’t take his eyes off her. The fire popping and the hum of the furnace provided the only sounds.
“You know, Kimberly, if we could prove Fisher is a part of something—anything—illegal, it’ll weaken his case considerably.”
“I know.”
He touched her lightly on the arm. “Would you be willing to testify against him?”
She remembered the cold fury in Robert’s eyes that afternoon. Taking a bracing breath, she nodded. “I would, but believe me, I don’t know anything.”
“Just think about it.” Then, as if dismissing the subject, he waved and glanced at his watch. “It’s late. I’d better shove off.” Standing, he returned his chair to the table. “I’ll call you next week after I’ve talked with Kesler. There’s a chance he and I can work something out that you and Robert will both agree to.”
“I doubt it.”
He flashed a cocky smile as they started down the hall to the living room. He grabbed his coat off the back of the couch. “You never know until you try.”
She shook her head. “Obviously you haven’t come up against Robert.”
His features tightened almost imperceptibly. “There’s always a way,” he said calmly, his voice turning strangely dangerous as he slipped his arms through the sleeves of his jacket. “I’ll call you next week.”
As he opened the door, a rush of damp air filled the room, billowing the curtains and causing the dying flames within the grate to leap brilliantly. Running quickly down the steps, Jake disappeared into the night. A few seconds later, the interior light of his Bronco flickered, and Kimberly watched him slide easily behind the steering wheel.
She shut the front door and wondered why the house seemed so suddenly empty without him. “Don’t be a fool,” she said, but smiled nonetheless.
In the kitchen she poured herself a fresh cup of hot tea and had just sat down with a magazine when the phone rang. Smiling, she picked it up on the third ring. “Hello?”
“Hi!” Diane Welby’s voice sounded over the wire.
Kimberly glanced out the window. “Well, how’s the bride-to-be? Cold feet yet?”
“Never! In fact I’m not even nervous.”
“Sure.”
From the window, she could see the shimmering dark streets. Beneath the street lamp, she noticed a man lingering, drawing deeply on his cigarette as he gazed steadily at her house. Her heart began to pound.
Diane was saying, “I just called to see how things were going with Jake. He’s taking your case, right?”
“Why—oh, yeah, he is.”
“Good.”
Kimberly snapped off the kitchen light so that she could watch the man, but it was too dark to see his features. He was tall, wore a raincoat and hat—nothing out of the ordinary. She thought about confiding in Diane, but what could she say? It wasn’t against the law to smoke on the street corner.
“And are you two getting along?”
The man on the street started walking away, around the corner and out of her line of vision.
“Kimberly?” Diane said, bringing Kimberly’s focus back to the conversation.
“Oh, yes. Well, we got off to a pretty rough start,” she admitted, still looking out the window as she filled Diane in on the particulars. “. . . He just left about fifteen minutes ago.”
“Good, good. I’m not kidding about the fact that he’s the best.”
“Best or not, he wasn’t all that crazy about representing me,” Kimberly said, shifting the phone to her other ear. “But he won’t say why.”
There was a long silence on the other end of the line, and finally she heard Diane let out her breath. “Jake had a difficult time a few years back. A messy divorce.”
“He mentioned it.”
“Did he?” Diane sounded delighted.
“He didn’t go into it much.”
“He wouldn’t,” Diane said, but didn’t elaborate.
There was a click on the line, and Diane muttered, “I’ve got another call. I just wanted to know everything’s okay and that you’ll be coming to the wedding.”
“I’ll be there,” Kimberly promised. “See you then.” She hung up and stared out the window. But other than the normal evening traffic, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. “You’re losing it, Bennett,” she told herself as she snapped the shade shut. “Definitely losing it.”
Nonetheless, she looked in on Lindsay again, double-checked the deadbolts and window latching and knew she wouldn’t get much sleep.
* * *
Jake paid little attention to the speed limit. Putting his Bronco through its paces, he steered through the puddled streets of Sellwood, across the Willamette River and on to Lake Oswego. His house, a bungalow that had once been a cabin retreat for wealthy Portlanders in the early nineteen hundreds, was located on the south side of the lake.
The drive home took twenty minutes, but Jake didn’t remember any of it. His thoughts hadn’t strayed from Kimberly.
In the driveway, he braked to a gravel-spinning stop and switched off the engine. Rain continued to beat on the roof as the cooling engine ticked in counterpoint. Jake stared through the blurred windshield and wrestled with his conscience.
Inwardly he sensed that Kimberly Bennett was a woman with whom he could enjoy a lasting relationship. But now, because he’d agreed to see her professionally, she was, at least in the broadest sense of the word, his client. And she’d been married to the man who Jake was sure had been responsible for Daniel’s death. Getting involved with Kimberly would only spell trouble.
And then there was her daughter—cute as a button, but Jake didn’t want to get too close. Nope, he had enough pain to last him a lifetime, and if he could help Kimberly out and put Fisher away at the same time, that’s all he could ask for. So, why couldn’t he forget her?
His fingers curled over the steering wheel, and he had to beat down the urge to drive back to her home and offer to take her out. Or to bed, he silently added, furious with himself for a physical attraction that was so damn compelling he couldn’t think straight.
“Get real,” he muttered to himself as he climbed out of his car and slammed the door shut. Lupus, his white shepherd, barked loudly. Tail whipping at a furious tempo, Lupus leapt from beneath the dirty branches of a rhododendron. Jake bent down and scratched the old dog’s wet ears. But his mind hadn’t left Kimberly.
Starting an affair was out of the question, he told himself for the hundredth time as he headed to the door. He couldn’t see her socially, and there was no point in even thinking about it. She was his client, Robert Fisher’s ex, and that was that.
Why, then, he wondered, kicking angrily at a stone in his path, was making love to her lodged so firmly in his mind?