by Barb Han
Clara knew better. She knew that wasn’t her niece’s behavior. And if Clara’s sister and brother-in-law hadn’t been so busy fighting all the time they would see it, too.
But then wasn’t Clara always the one sitting on the sidelines, watching other people’s lives unfold and giving them advice? What about her life? Her past had made it impossible to move forward, to push past the darkness that made her question everything, that made her too frightened to push out of her comfort zone and take a risk. She always stayed back, played it safe.
But now Ashlyn was in trouble. There’d be no more sitting on the sidelines this time. Time was ticking and answers were nowhere in sight.
Clara couldn’t care what her involvement in the case would do to her relationship with her sister at this point. Clara couldn’t play this one safe. She had to act because Ashlyn might be lost forever.
The truck engine idled.
“Please, help me.”
The sound of the gear shifting into park lit the first spark of hope that her best and only hope wouldn’t drive off without a backward glance. She hadn’t once questioned the man would run her over but he was strong enough to get out of the vehicle, pick her up and toss her aside if he wanted to.
As the driver’s side door opened, Clara rounded the side of the truck.
“You’ll probably think I’m crazy but I know my niece is alive and being held against her will,” Clara stated with as much authority as she could muster.
“Show me the proof. Convince me she’s not a runaway because based on what I’ve heard so far that’s exactly the case.” Daniel stood in the crook of the opened door and cab of the vehicle.
For the second time she was struck by his sheer size. The man was tall. Six-feet-three-inches if she had to guess. His muscles rippled even through his black T-shirt. The cotton stretched and released against a solid-walled chest. He wore cargo pants and flip-flops. His serious expression and taut face told her there was a dark story bubbling below the surface. One that, based on her experience as a therapist, she knew better than to prod.
“I can’t,” she countered and figured he’d hop back inside the cab. She seized on his moment of hesitation. “Because it’s not the kind of proof that anyone else would see as reasonable.”
“What does that mean?” His dark brow arched. He was mid-thirties with serious lines on his forehead, brackets around his mouth. His olive skin was tanned. His face was made of hard angles and chiseled features. His glare was intense and she could imagine how intimidating it would be to someone he was interrogating. Instead of fear, it provoked other emotions inside her, emotions that had long been dormant and had no business resurfacing under the circumstances.
“It’s a feeling,” she said, figuring this was the point where she was about to lose his flicker of interest.
“Describe it.”
“We were close, Ashlyn and I, especially since my sister remarried. We’ve always been on the same wave length, which frustrated Stella. She chalked it up to us being close in age. But that doesn’t matter. I would know if something happened to Ashlyn. I would feel it in the pit of my stomach.” She heard how flimsy the words sounded coming out of her own mouth. But she meant them whole-heartedly. Call it women’s intuition or overprotectiveness but Clara had felt something was off every time that kid had come down with a cold.
Daniel looked at her like he was looking through her and another inappropriate jolt of awareness slammed into her. He was serious hotness with a rockin’ bod. That much was obvious to anyone with eyes. But her reactions to his physical presence were downright embarrassing. She shoved those unproductive thoughts aside. Under normal circumstances she might enjoy the fact that a man could provoke a sexual reaction inside her. It had been too long since she’d met anyone she thought was the slightest bit interesting. Why this man got her senses firing like a pinball machine was beyond her.
That was a question for another time.
Ashlyn needed her aunt’s full attention.
“Let’s pretend I believe you.” Daniel’s dark gaze nearly pierced through her. “Tell me what you know about this case.”
“About Ashlyn,” she corrected. “My niece is not a file to me.”
Those words seemed to score a direct hit.
“Fair enough,” he said. “Tell me about Ashlyn.”
“She’s smart. Straight As in school—”
“Tell me something I don’t already know about her or can’t read in a file,” he interrupted.
“Ashlyn is sensitive. She sees everything. She takes a sketchpad everywhere with her, keeps it tucked under her arm. Says she wants to capture moments as they happen and a camera just takes pictures,” Clara elaborated. She felt the moisture gathering in her eyes. “She’s beautiful. Blond hair. Blue eyes.”
“Like rivers,” he stated. “Like you.”
“Like her mother.” Her voice cracked as fear gripped her.
“Speaking of whom, why isn’t your sister here? Why isn’t she the one begging me for help?” he asked.
Good questions. She couldn’t answer honestly, so she said, “My best guess is that she doesn’t want to get her hopes up. The past couple of weeks have been hard on everyone, especially her. We tried to go to the Caribbean immediately following Ashlyn’s disappearance but there was a hurricane and we couldn’t get to the island. My sister insisted on going when the weather settled. She wanted me to stay here to man the house in case Ashlyn turned up. I still couldn’t say for sure why I listened.” Clara would beat herself up over that decision for the rest of her life. “I’m involved now because my sister’s decisions haven’t been stellar so far. And it’s complicated with her. Stella’s had it rough since she found out her husband had an affair a year ago. And now with Ashlyn it’s been one hit after another.”
“What about her father?” His dark penetrating gaze threw her off balance more than she wanted to allow or admit. “Ashlyn loved her father. He’s been busy. He spends a lot more time at the office. More time taking trips. He works for an ad agency and has been traveling back and forth to New York more frequently. He and my sister’s lives had been moving in different directions for the past couple of years. She never said but I’m pretty certain my sister started having an affair with her tennis coach,” she admitted. “I know her heart couldn’t have been in it. As soon as my brother-in-law confessed his feelings for another woman he changed jobs and promised never to see her again.” Clara flashed eyes at him, embarrassed at recounting her family’s intimate details to a stranger, thinking she’d spent her whole career on the other side of a conversation just like this one. “He wanted to keep their family together but my sister said she’d never be able to trust him again. That’s when she met Timothy, her current husband.”
Clara wiped the moisture from her eyes. “Sorry.”
“If she didn’t run away, who took her?” he asked and she was thankful for the change in subject.
“If I knew that I wouldn’t be—”
“You must have some idea,” he stated.
“That’s the problem. I don’t.”
Unlike the Jamaican authorities, he didn’t mention the fact that she fit the bill perfectly for human trafficking with her blue eyes and blond hair. Clara couldn’t go there to the place where Ashlyn had been sold to the highest bidder. She couldn’t go there on how badly she’d failed Ashlyn. And she especially couldn’t go there on how her own past had crippled her until now. “She was on vacation with her best friend when it happened. I had a bad feeling about her going.”
“Which you shared with your sister.”
“How’d you know?” she asked.
His gaze zeroed in on her again. “You don’t strike me as the type to keep quiet if something’s on your mind.”
“You’re right about that.” She hated how her cheeks flushed when she was embarrassed. She shouldn’t care what this man thought about her outside of gaining his help to locate her niece.
“Where was the trip
?”
She hesitated. This is the point where three other agencies had turned her down. Taking in a resigned breath, she said, “Jamaica.”
Daniel clenched and released his fists a couple of times. He didn’t want to think about Jamaica’s proximity to Haiti—a gateway for human trafficking. Hell, Cuba, Haiti and Jamaica were the holy trinity of human trafficking. Part of the reason he’d banished himself to Cuba the past two years was the proximity to Haiti—a constant reminder of everything he’d lost.
Authorities wouldn’t make this easy, especially not after this much time had passed. “This is complicated—”
Frustration came off the beautiful blond in palpable waves. Anger lit a fire in those river blues. “I know what you’re going to say, so I’ll save you the trouble. International law is sticky. There’s no Amber Alert, no U.S. police involvement. Jamaican authorities won’t be honest with anyone from the U.S. and resorts are scared to death of negative publicity. Workers will lie to authorities and to families in order to cover their tracks. I’ve heard it all so save your breath. Ashlyn is running out of time. It’s been fourteen days. I’ve been told you’re the best at tracking people and I’m out of patience. You know how to find people, all people. So, what I need to know is…” She stood there like a bull. “Will you help me find Ashlyn?”
“The authorities won’t cooperate—”
Clara held up her hand, palm out. “Save it.”
“Which will make it interesting,” he continued like she hadn’t just dismissed him. “I don’t work well with the U.S. government. They’re a bunch of incompetent bastards and I don’t want lame investigators getting in my way. If Jamaican authorities don’t want to be involved, even better. I work best alone.”
The blond stared at him cautiously and he could see that she didn’t want to get her hopes up even as a little flicker lit her serious eyes. He could easily see that she was intelligent and a rogue thought struck that she was someone he’d want to get to know better under different circumstances. His brain immediately shut down the possibility. Daniel had spent most of his life alone. The only family he’d ever known he’d screwed up. They were gone. He hadn’t deserved them and he sure as hell didn’t deserve a second chance.
“The trail is cold,” Daniel said.
“When’s that ever stopped us before?” Jaden’s voice boomed from the doorway.
Daniel had heard the screen door creak open a few moments ago but had chosen to ignore it. “I don’t work with a partner.”
“You can’t work alone,” Clara stated. “I’m going with you.”
“Impossible,” Daniel dismissed her. There was a darkness and vulnerability about her that tugged at him and tried to draw him in to uncover her secrets. He could relate on a basic level to the depth of her pain.
She took a few steps closer to him until he could practically see those depths in her eyes.
“I have information you might need,” she argued vehemently. “Information that can save you days and possibly save Ashlyn’s life.”
He fished out his cell and held it up. “That’s what these are for.”
“What if you need information now?” She snapped her fingers as though for emphasis. “If I’m there I can help you. Take that away and you could miss an opportunity to save her life. You and I both know cell towers are sketchy in places in the U.S., let alone outside of it. You need me.”
Daniel didn’t want to notice the wells of water gathering in her eyes or the fact that her chin quivered when she spoke and he could plainly see that she was barely holding it together. He didn’t want to let her reaction influence him. Emotions were precisely the reason he didn’t want her tagging along. Emotions were dangerous in the wrong situation. Emotions in the form of a poorly timed outburst could get them both killed.
“Where do her parents live?” Daniel caught her gaze.
“Does that mean you’ll take the job?” More of that damn hope bubbled. He could see it in her eyes and hear it in the tone of her voice.
“I never said that,” he shot back.
“Still—”
Something bubbled to the surface inside him, too. It sure as hell wasn’t hope. He stalked toward her and pinned her against the truck bed.
“I don’t mince words and I won’t be stonewalled into taking on any assignment. Is that clear?”
Her heart pounded at the base of her throat as she gulped in air. He moved his hands to her shoulders and then dropped them down to her hips.
Jaden’s loud protests drowned out in the background. Daniel needed to prove a point.
He dipped his head and brushed his lips against hers. He groaned as her body tensed and her fingers gripped his shoulders before she went limp against him, molding to his body.
“Are you afraid of me?” He dared her to be honest.
“No.” Her eyes told a different story, glittering with need.
“You should be. I’m not your friend.” And to prove it, he added, “Your niece is dead.”
Clara turned her face away from him and squeezed her eyes shut. Tears spilled down her cheeks.
“What? That’s not what you want to hear?” Damn, he felt like a jerk for saying it to her.
“Hey, man. There’s no reason to say that.” Jaden’s footsteps fell heavy on the hard earth as he stalked toward Daniel and Clara.
Daniel didn’t care.
“Excuse me if I refuse to candy-coat the situation,” Daniel spat out.
“This was a mistake,” Jaden conceded, his tone a mix of frustration, anger and apology. “You’re head’s not in the right place for this.”
“Damn right.”
“I’m sorry I brought you in. This is my fault. You’re not ready,” Jaden continued and the damn compassion in his tone stoked the fire burning inside Daniel.
Daniel pushed off the truck and walked away without looking back.
Night blanketed the orchard by the time Daniel returned to the two-story farm house with a white-washed wrap-around porch.
A few stars twinkled through the canopy of an otherwise cloudy gray-black sky.
Clara’s car, a silver sedan, was still parked next to his rented truck.
The wooden porch creaked and groaned under his heavy footsteps. Cicadas chirped a loud chorus in the background.
Daniel opened the screen door and stepped inside. Lauren sat at the island with Clara rubbing her back.
All eyes diverted to him.
Jaden held up a hand as he paced in the kitchen. “Get the hell out of here.”
Daniel paused at the doorway and stopped short of doing what he needed to, apologizing.
Clara refocused on Lauren, ignoring his presence in the room.
“She’s having contractions,” Jaden said to Daniel, his tone a potent mix of helplessness and anger.
“Braxton-Hicks,” Lauren clarified, pushing out bursts of air like a powerlifter.
Daniel must’ve looked at them like they were crazy because Jaden quickly added, “False labor.”
Clara locked gazes with him for a split-second. Her eyes were swollen and puffy from crying.
His mouth formed an apology but it stayed stuck in his throat.
“What can I do to help?” Daniel conceded.
Jaden didn’t blink.
“Leave.”
Chapter 7
“Let’s pretend that’s not an option.” Daniel folded his arms and stood in an athletic stance.
Jaden stared right back at Daniel, unmoving.
A moment of connection happened between them, man-to-man or maybe it was father-to-father. Daniel didn’t want to get inside his head about what it meant. “I’d like to stay if Clara will allow it.”
Clara took in a sharp breath and he could sense more of that pain—pain that he wanted to heal on a primal level. “What you do has nothing to do with me.”
“I’ll take that as a yes. Thank you,” Daniel conceded.
“Then make yourself useful. Zip your mouth and put on another
pot of coffee,” Jaden practically growled.
With a nod of understanding, Daniel went to work. He remembered the feeling of being a first-time father. He’d known Naomi was in labor while he was on a mission. Then came the long wait to find out if they were having a boy or girl. Naomi had wanted to be surprised, so she’d instructed the doctor to keep the news quiet. Daniel didn’t necessarily agree but figured he wasn’t the one who was pregnant and, from the looks of her on the few video chats they’d had during his deployment, miserable.
Seeing Lauren now, seeing her pain, made him feel like an even bigger jerk.
Daniel had insisted that he wasn’t ready for fatherhood when he’d learned his wife—then fiancée—was pregnant.
Another pang of guilt stabbed him for not being there for Naomi as he watched Lauren breathe through what looked like excruciating pain.
Three cups of black coffee, a helluva lot of pacing and two hours later, Lauren was curled up on the couch under a blanket sleeping, the contractions having finally died down.
“You want a refill?” Daniel asked Clara, motioning toward her coffee mug.
“I’ll get it.” She stood and stalked past him. Asking forgiveness was out of the question. He’d settle for a decent working relationship.
Besides, that kiss felt a little too right and that just pissed him off.
He waited for her to finish before pouring his own and topping off Jaden’s, who he’d made a tentative truce with.
The three gathered around the kitchen island after Jaden dimmed the light in the adjoining living room. Stress cracks lined his forehead.
“Tell me about the girl. Start from the beginning.” Daniel didn’t bother looking at Clara when he asked. She hated him right now. Good. Hating him? Party of two. Three if he counted Jaden.
“Ashlyn got invited to go on vacation to Jamaica with her best friend and her family,” Clara said. “Everyone came home but her.”
“I’m guessing your sister and Ashlyn’s father went to authorities immediately,” Daniel said.