Chapter 12
Jake dialed Courtney while he walked to the kitchen. Having Kenna here was a major violation of undercover conduct, one that would surely result in a written reprimand, probable internal inquiry, and possible termination if he were found out. He’d weighed all those consequences last night with Mackenna in his arms in that empty hole she called home. She’d been too distraught to leave there.
So that made bringing her here to his undercover apartment the only option. And risking everything. The decision wasn’t as hard as he thought it should be. This woman who’d declared more than once that she didn’t like him had innocently seeped into his pores and penetrated his soul. He couldn’t leave her alone in that empty apartment last night because he couldn’t leave her. He’d meant what he told her, that he’d babysit her every minute of the day if he had to.
A wry smile crossed his face while he waited for the connection. Maybe they’d both end up homeless.
The bureau kept a tight leash on its undercover agents, always needing to know where they are and what they were up to. The monitoring was necessary in the event a case went bad and the agent required backup. The tight supervision was reassurance for an agent under cover but it also limited one’s privacy. Jake couldn’t simply go off the grid for a few hours without raising suspicion.
Courtney sounded cheerful when she answered his call. “What’s up, partner?”
“Court, I’ve got some personal things to take care of this morning. I’ll be here at the apartment most of the morning.”
Behind him, Mackenna snapped, “How dare you?” Loud enough for Courtney to hear.
“You entertaining?”
He couldn’t admit that a person of interest in two bank robbery cases had shared his bed the night before. “Just cover for me, will ya? Personal business this morning if anyone asks.”
On the phone, Courtney remained silent while Mackenna huffed behind him. Growing up with three high-maintenance sisters should have better prepared him to handle women. It hadn’t.
Courtney broke the silence. “I hope you’re not thinking with your dick, Jake. Meet me at two o’clock at the usual place. Make sure you show up or I’ll log it.” She hung up before he could respond.
He plastered a smile on his face and pivoted to face Mackenna’s wrath.
“You can’t tell me what to do.” Her hangover must have subsided because the level of her voice was two decibels below a shout. “I’m done with men who try to run my life. I want to go home. Now! If you won’t take me, I’ll call a cab.”
Well, he liked the sound of that. At least she was back in fighting mode and not whining about a miserable existence and hopeless situation. He counted the scoops of coffee into the filter and pressed the brew button.
“Did you hear me, Jake?”
Wiping up the counter where water dripped he nodded. “Yes, ma’am, I surely did. I’ll be happy to take you home. And then I’ll drive to the police station and I’ll file the report.” Her mouth dropped into a cute oval. Memories of her kisses from the night before flooded his brain and aroused his manhood. She’d begged him to make love to her, make her feel like a woman again, she’d said. Damn, he’d wanted to. Bad. He stepped closer to the sink, hiding the bulge in his underwear. He should’ve slipped on his jeans before leaving the bedroom.
“What do you mean?”
He shrugged. “I can file an attempted rape report based on information received. Whether it’s because of you or me, police will question that bastard this afternoon.”
“Jake, you wouldn’t. I’ll lose my job.”
“How long do you think you’re going to keep that job, Kenna? You were babbling in the hallway last night about how you puked after he touched you. He knows that I know.”
She stared at him, speechless, her hair disheveled and her makeup smeared from not scrubbing her face last night before falling asleep. Mackenna remained motionless, looking sexy as hell in his T-shirt.
Her eyes narrowed, and he imagined her brain working. She stepped closer to the granite counter that separated the kitchen from the TV area. “Are you an attorney?”
He jerked his head slightly backward, surprised by the question. “No, ma’am.”
“Then you’re a cop.”
He froze, striving for a blank facial expression. “You’re changing the subject, sugar.”
Her eyes flashed. “No, this is the subject at the moment. You. And exactly who you are. Earlier you asked if I was penetrated. Now you use words like information received? Who talks like that if not a lawyer or a cop? You’ve said before that as long as someone tells the truth, they have nothing to worry about. That’s what you advised me to do and, much to my chagrin, I’ve been completely honest with you about a slew of things that are none of your business. I can blame some of that on the wine, I think. But I’m sober now.”
She tapped her forefinger on the countertop. “I’d like to know who you really are, Jake Manfred or Manettia or whatever your last name is today. Let’s start with that.”
His eyebrows betrayed him and shot upward. She recalled his alias and his real name. Fuck.
Kenna was on her toes this morning and she caught the eye movement. “That’s right. I remember both names. I’m not stupid, all actions of the past weeks to the contrary. Who are you? What do you do for a living? And why are you so interested in me?”
Her cheeks flushed with anger, standing there barely dressed, tapping her finger impatiently, her other hand perched on her hip. Under different circumstances, he’d scoop her up and make love to her into the middle of tomorrow, she was so damn attractive like that. And his desire raged. Get your head in the game, Manettia. This is a major fucking problem standing in front of you.
The number one rule of undercover work is never, ever, disclose your true identity, under any circumstance. Even in the face of death or, in this case, an intense attraction to a woman. Well, there it was. An admission in his head that his heart figured out days ago and his body agreed with one-hundred percent. For whatever reason, this woman mesmerized him. If she shared even the slightest bit of affection with him, he’d be under her spell. Maybe he was already.
He wanted to know her so much more personally, physically as well as in every other way. What was her favorite color? Her family background? Her dreams for a future? For a husband?
Certainly not a man who lied to her. He knew her well enough already to know that. She’d already said Arthur cheated and lied. Last night she’d rambled on and on about that loser and about her boss, whom Jake wanted one-on-one time with in a dark alley. She’d been an open book, candidly answering any question he asked, including his curiosity about both bank robberies. She wasn’t involved in either of the hold-ups, he was certain. But she was caught in a lair of life’s complications. And then, she’d turned the tables and sweetly asked, “That’s my wretched life in a nutshell, Jake. Now tell me who you are.”
“Someone you can trust,” he’d said. Because she could. But that opened the door to her attempted seduction, complete with the striptease, her straddling his lap and kissing the hell out of him. She was the most sensuous woman he’d ever had in his arms, even under the influence, and he’d wanted to say yes to her requests to love her. But that’d make him no better than her boss, who’d taken advantage of her vulnerability and planned to exploit it. The man expected to have sex with her last night and Kenna worried that Jake’s interference likely angered him, which she thought would result in consequences for her. A police report wasn’t going to make matters any worse than they likely already were.
Through tears, Mackenna was completely truthful about her life, even though she didn’t recall telling him most of it. And now she expected the truth from him.
But he couldn’t reciprocate, not without risking his career and possibly his life. He was glad Kenna’s self-pity from last night had disappeared. But now, her chocolate-brown eyes bore a hole through him.
“Answer my questions, you son of a bitch. Who are you really?”
Both palms flattened onto the counter in an attempt to steady his hands. He didn’t want to lose her but truth was not an option.
“My name is Jake. I . . .”
“Jake what? What’s your last name?”
Why was the kitchen so damn warm? He wore only underwear and yet, perspiration soaked his back.
He filled his lungs with air and exhaled slowly, trying to calm his raging thoughts. “Will you listen to me for a minute without interrupting, please?” A stall but she bought it. Her hand cut the air between them. “The floor is all yours, sir.”
“I’m someone you can trust, Kenna. I can’t answer your questions, I can’t tell you why and I know that’s a conundrum.” She opened her mouth to speak and he raised his hand in a halting motion.
“No interruptions, you agreed.” Mackenna clamped her jaw shut.
“My name is really Jake. I’m from a small town in Alabama where my mother still lives. She would love you. I actually have three sisters who drive me crazy but I can’t wait for you to meet them. Those are all truths.”
He stopped talking, hoping that might end the conversation and knowing it wouldn’t.
“What’s your mother’s last name?”
God, Kenna was smart. He broke out into a wide grin. “If she remarried, it would be different than mine.”
“Has she?”
“No. She said there would never be another man like my daddy. He passed three years ago.”
Her finger resumed tapping on the counter. “Sorry. So it’s Jake . . . what?”
“Look, sugar, my last name doesn’t matter. You ask valid questions that I’m not prepared to answer and I can’t explain why. All I can do is ask you to trust me because you already know you can. And I beg you not to shut me out of your life because I already know I want you in mine. It’s a hell of a predicament we’re both in. Please, honey, I’m asking for blind faith, I know but, in time, I’ll be able to answer your questions. And you’ll understand, I promise.”
Mackenna’s eyes widened and her face flushed. “Why in the hell would I trust you? After all I’ve been through, you stand here and ask me to have blind trust in someone I barely know but whom I already suspect is deceitful. I’ve had enough lies and betrayal. I’m done being used.”
“Yes, ma’am, I agree with everything you say but I’d like to clarify one thing. I haven’t lied to you. I haven’t answered your questions but that’s not the same as not being truthful.” She squinted, as if honing her thoughts and giving weight to his argument, so he took advantage of the moment.
“I’ll tell you why you should give me the chance I’m asking for.” Jesus, his heart raced like an express train. “You’re standing in my apartment, in my T-shirt, and you spent the night in my bed. I could’ve taken advantage of you last night as many times as I wanted and honey, I sure wanted to. But I didn’t because I want more than a hot night of sex with you.”
He laid a hand on his chest, his heart muscle pounding beneath it. Did she see it? “Trust me, it’s a shock to me too. As for trusting a total stranger, I don’t care how drunk you were last night, you knew instinctively you could trust me. You know it now, standing here arguing with me. That’s all I’m asking, to please trust me and give me a bit of time.”
She arched one eyebrow. “Are you married?”
“No. That’s the truth.”
She studied him, perhaps considering his words, so he drove home his position.
“I understand you’ve been used and abused by men recently but I’m not one of them and even falling down drunk you knew that last night. You know it now. For crissake, we’re standing here in our underwear. You’re not afraid of me, not one bit.
“Have a little bit of faith in me, Kenna. Please.”
Her chest heaved and her lips formed a thin line as she studied him. Time stopped for him and his heart sprinted. Was she debating a future with him?
“I’d like to go home now, Jake.”
His emotions tanked. Despair seeped into his bones and he nodded slowly. He hadn’t convinced her of anything. He’d take her home and likely lose her. “I need ten minutes to shower and dress, unless you want to shower first. You’re welcome to.”
She shook her head. “I just want to go home.”
~ ~ ~
Standing in her empty kitchen cradling a cup of coffee, Mackenna assessed her situation, disgusted by what her mind’s eye viewed. Over the last six months, she’d let Arthur wreck her self-esteem, destroy her confidence, and rob her of her independence. She’d been so desperate to hold on to him, she’d let an overheard remark made by a jealous co-worker cloud her perspective about their relationship. Mackenna turned thirty next year and her co-worker implied Arthur was Mackenna’s last chance to snag a man. Ironic since the woman struggled with her own unhappy marriage.
Yet, the comment powerfully affected Mackenna and although she’d enjoyed her single life, she’d been determined to make it work with Arthur. For their first three months, he’d been a dream companion. Everything changed once he moved in. The secretive texts. His unexplained lateness more evenings than she cared to number. Finally, after a search of his pockets while he showered, she’d discovered a motel receipt. That tiny slip of paper carried a wallop of a message. Sharing a bed with someone isn’t the same as sleeping with someone who loves you. That was when she decided Arthur had to go.
And no, dammit, Arthur wasn’t her last resort for happiness. No man was. Let the gossips have a field day. Throwing him out was the right thing to do. Sure, it’d be great to spend her golden years with someone special but if that didn’t happen, she’d rescue a dog.
Begrudgingly, she admitted that Jake was right about Ted Gleaner. She couldn’t let him sexually exploit her. She wouldn’t. Yes, she was in a hell of a financial mess but she’d work it out somehow. Even if it meant flipping burgers or working a night shift in a gas mart.
The ride home from Jake’s apartment to hers had been silent. She’d been surprised when they exited the elevator to the underground garage of his apartment building and he guided her toward a Jeep. Jake attempted conversation, saying that he’d driven the Jeep last night otherwise it would have been difficult to balance her on the back of his motorcycle for the drive to his place. She refrained from commenting, in part because she had no recollection of the trip. And this morning, it hadn’t occurred to her to wonder how he’d gotten her there. She remembered stumbling off the elevator with Mr. Gleaner and spotting Jake in front of her door. And feeling relief that he was there, waiting for her. Jake was spot on about one thing: she trusted him.
It was a hard lesson but she’d learned from the evening. Alcohol was not her friend, and she vowed to abstain completely in the future. But she hadn’t consumed all that wine only to get drunk. She’d tried to block out Mr. Gleaner, fearing his plans.
Jake also was right that he could’ve taken advantage of her in her drunken state. But he hadn’t. Instead, he’d realized she was drinking when he called her, suspected the worst, and rushed to her rescue. Maybe he actually was a knight in shining armor, worthy of a seat at the round table. After all, the knights in King Arthur’s court lived by a code of chivalry. So did Jake, apparently. Was that another lesson to learn?
After she deflected his attempt at conversation en route to her apartment he remained silent until the Jeep stopped in front of her building. “Call me, please, Kenna. Don’t shut me down.”
Those eyes of his had deepened to eggplant purple and misted, and the look on his face mimicked a young boy who’d lost his best friend. She didn’t know what to think or how to interpret her conflicted feelings. All she did was whisper, “Thanks for bringing me home,” before exiting the passenger seat without looking back.
In retrospect, she had a hell of a lot more to thank him for. The heaviness in her heart included confusion about Jake. She didn’t know a thing about him yet, he certainly was a good man. She knew it intuitively. He was right about that, too. She enjoyed being with him, manifested goosebumps recalling their closeness in his bed and conceded the mystery surrounding him both infuriated and infatuated her. Maybe she’d call him later.
But this morning, Jake wasn’t a priority. After toweling herself dry she called the East Seventh Street bank to say she had an appointment at the police station and she’d be late. The clerk who answered the call assumed the meeting pertained to the bank robbery and Mackenna didn’t correct her.
She applied her makeup carefully, concealing the dark circles beneath her eyes, dressed in a navy blue flowered sheath dress and stepped into red stilettos. One glance around her empty apartment, a fortifying deep breath and she lifted her chin a notch. Mackenna McElroy was done being used.
~ ~ ~
Filing two police reports took longer than she expected and involved dealing with two different police officers. The female officer who assisted her with the sexual assault report was full of compassion, even as she explained that without physical evidence, the charge against Ted Gleaner was weak. The officer recorded Mackenna’s preliminary statement before asking questions designed to provide more details. When she asked if Mr. Gleaner had penetrated her, Mackenna snapped her face up from the paperwork.
“I’m sorry, Miss McElroy, but the more specific you can be, the stronger my report will be.”
Mackenna shook her head. “Yes, I understand that it’s just, a friend of mine asked me the same question, using the same words.”
The policewoman smiled. “Is he a cop?”
“I think so.” He had to be. But why wouldn’t Jake simply admit that?
Essentially, the attempted assault accusation would boil down to Mackenna’s word against her boss’s. The officer advised her to also file a complaint with the bank’s human resources department as a way to protect her job, but she conceded that Mackenna’s standing might be tenuous. Mackenna planned to report Mr. Gleaner’s conduct to HR but she suspected it would be futile. He’d been with the bank ten years and she felt certain he’d wheedle his way out of the allegation. She doubted she was the first woman he sexually intimidated but, again, she had no proof. It wasn’t exactly something the ladies discussed on their breaks. Unemployment could be in her future but if it meant an end to his demands, it was worth it.
The theft report proved more difficult. While she could provide details about whom, when and how Arthur had robbed her, the question about what was taken overwhelmed her. “Everything. He took everything,” she explained to the detective.
“I need a complete list,” he said, sliding a pen and yellow legal pad across the table.
Her shoulders sagged. “Furniture, dishes, electronics.” She spread her hands wide. “He stole it all. And he hacked into my bank accounts and stripped me of my personal identity.”
“I’ll need as complete a list as you can compile, Miss McElroy. If you need time to write it, that’s fine. It might be easier if you went home and looked around, room by room, and noted everything you remember. You can return the pages tomorrow. In the meantime, I can start a general search for Arthur, since you have no idea where he might be. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
Her spirits had been high as she drove to the police station, bolstered by her decision to take action and stand up for herself. She left the station deflated. But the definition of a fighter is someone who doesn’t surrender. She didn’t plan to.
It was one o’clock when she arrived at the East Seventh Street bank branch. Thankfully, Mr. Gleaner wasn’t at this branch today. When the manager asked about her meeting with the police she said she needed to give them additional information. It wasn’t exactly a lie, although he assumed the information pertained to the bank robberies. While her failure to clarify that impression was deceitful, she reasoned that she misled him for good reasons.
Did that explain Jake’s conduct? Did he firmly believe his reasons for deceiving her were solid? Was that different from a lie? Neither one of them revealed the truth about certain events. Why was it okay for her but wrong for Jake to take that posture?
The dilemma played in her mind through most of the day. Until about an hour before closing when the employees started buzzing. Two police officers had escorted Ted Gleaner out of the Mound Avenue branch. No one knew why but the murmurs said he didn’t look happy.