by Tawny Weber
“I didn’t realize Anderson had any.” He took another swallow of beer. “Friends, that is.”
Jessie let the comment slide. She knew Jacob’s reputation as a cold fish, but he’d been like a second father to her and Nicole.
“Have you gone to the police?” Cooper asked. “About your sister.”
The question sobered her, reminding her of why she was here. “No, but her husband has. Yesterday.”
“So why come to me?”
Jessie hesitated a moment, bracing herself against the harsh reality of her sister’s disappearance. “Because I’m afraid they won’t find her.” She needed to face both the truth and her fear. “Not alive, anyway.”
Cooper stiffened and leaned back in his chair, all traces of humor gone from his features. “How long has she been missing?”
“I’m not sure. Her husband told the police a few days, but it’s been three weeks since I’ve spoken to her.”
“Wouldn’t her husband know how long she’s been gone?”
“If he’s telling the truth.”
“You think he’s lying?”
“Nicole and I are very close. Three weeks is a long time for us to go without speaking to each other,” she explained. “Our parents died years ago, and we have no other family. She calls me every Sunday without fail.”
“So she missed a couple of weeks.” He shrugged, but there was nothing nonchalant in the gesture.
“It’s more than that.” Jessie shifted slightly, as if to watch the passing boats on the water. In truth, it unnerved her to look at him. Despite his questions, he’d once again become the distant man she’d first encountered, and it bothered her in a way she didn’t understand. “The last time I talked to Nicole, we argued. So at first, I didn’t think much about it when she didn’t call the following week.”
“And you didn’t call her?”
“No, not then. Nicole always called me. It’s the way she wanted it.” Jessie shrugged. It had been only one of the many strange demands Nicole had made since her marriage. “And I’m sure she had her reasons.”
“Like?”
Jessie hesitated, hating to reveal her family’s problems to a stranger. Yet Jacob had said Sam Cooper was the best, that if Nicole were still alive, he’d find her. Making herself look at him, she said, “Her husband and I don’t get along. She calls on Sunday because he’s never home on Sunday night.”
He nodded, his features devoid of expression, and Jessie suddenly realized why he disturbed her. Underneath his cool façade, this man was dangerous.
Shaking the unsettling notion, she went on with her story. “The second week after Nicole and I argued, I finally called her. I figured she’d stewed long enough.”
“I take it you didn’t get hold of her.”
“No. So I left a message asking her to call me—or at least text—no matter what time she got in, but she never did. That’s when I began to worry. It’s not like Nicole to remain angry. For the next couple of days I left more messages and sent her texts, and still, she never answered. So I tried her house phone and got her housekeeper, who told me Nicole was out of town. Finally, I hopped on a plane and came down.”
“You never spoke to her husband?”
“As I said, we don’t get along.”
“But if you were worried. . .”
“Believe me, it wouldn’t have done any good. He wouldn’t have told me anything.”
This time she could see the doubt on his face. “Okay, so you came to see your sister in person.”
“Yes, and again I spoke to the housekeeper, who gave me a story about Nicole visiting friends. But the woman was obviously nervous and repeating what she’d been told to say. Plus, she couldn’t tell me these supposed friends’ names or where they lived.” Jessie shook her head, remembering her frustration with the agitated woman. “I know it doesn’t seem like much, but if you knew Nicole. . . She wouldn’t go anywhere without telling me. That’s when I confronted Robert.”
“Robert?”
“Robert Whitlock, Nicole’s husband.”
Cooper let out a low whistle and sank back into his chair. “You’re telling me your sister is married to Robert Whitlock? Judge Robert Whitlock?”
“Do you know him?”
“Of him. Actually, I suspect most everyone in town knows of him. He’s not exactly a low-profile individual.”
Jessie leaned forward. “Then you understand why I need your help?”
Cooper shook his head. “As a matter of fact, I don’t know why you’re even here. If anyone can mobilize the cops to find your sister, it’s Whitlock.”
“I don’t think Robert wants the police to find her. I think he’s the reason she’s missing.”
“Wait a minute.” Copper leaned forward in his chair. “Are you saying you think Whitlock is responsible for his wife’s disappearance?”
“I’m sure of it. Whether he’s kidnapped her or she’s run from him, I don’t know.”
“Kidnapped his own wife?”
“Okay, so maybe he’s already—”
“Killed her?”
His skepticism struck her like a blow, and then her anger boiled to the surface. Nothing Jessie had told Cooper had made the least bit of difference to him.
“Look, I’m sorry I bothered you.” She pulled out her wallet and tossed a five-dollar bill on the table. She needed help, but she’d get it somewhere else. From someone else. She stood, but he grabbed her arm before she could walk away.
“Wait,” he said. “I’m sorry.” Although nothing in his expression made her believe he meant it. “Sit back down and tell me why you think Whitlock’s involved.” He spoke quietly, but there was no mistaking the command in his voice.
It only made Jessie angrier. “Why? You obviously don’t believe me.”
“Start at the beginning and don’t leave anything out.” Again, it was an order. Something Jessie had never been very good at taking.
For several moments, she glared at him, fighting the urge to walk away. She told herself she could get help elsewhere, but somewhere in the back of her mind she kept hearing Jacob’s voice. “He’s the best, Jessie. If Nicki’s alive, Sam Cooper will find her.” Finally, she yanked her arm from Cooper’s grasp and settled back in her chair. Only for Nicole.
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s try this again.”
It took her a moment to rein in her anger. When she was finally able to speak, she kept her voice low, even, under control. “Nicole’s been acting strange lately.”
“In what way?”
“It’s hard to describe. It’s just a feeling, really.” Steeling herself, she met his gaze. “Do you believe in hunches, Mr. Cooper?”
“Only my own.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
His jaw tightened, but he kept his mouth shut.
“We argued about Robert,” she said after a moment. “Several weeks earlier, she’d told me she was worried about him, that she thought he was in some kind of trouble. But that’s all she would say. The next time we talked, I asked her about it, and she acted as if I’d misunderstood. She insisted there was nothing wrong. But she was scared.”
“So that’s what you argued about?”
“Not exactly.” Jessie glanced away before continuing. “We argued because I suggested she leave him.”
“And she wouldn’t.”
“She hung up on me.”
Cooper remained silent for a moment and then said, “That’s it?”
She knew it didn’t sound like much. “I know my sister. She wouldn’t go anywhere without telling me. Not of her own free will, anyway.”
“Let me get this straight.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “You think that Robert Whitlock, one of the most respected men in Broward County, has kidnapped or, excuse me, possibly harmed your sister in some way?”
She lifted her chin and met his hard gaze straight on.
“And you believe this because she sounded strange the last few times y
ou spoke to her on the phone?”
“Scared,” she corrected, holding on to her temper. The way he put it, she had to admit the whole thing sounded far-fetched.
“Yeah, scared. Then when you suggested she leave her husband, she got angry and hung up.”
Jessie leaned forward in her chair. “She is missing.”
“And her husband has reported that to the police.”
“What else could he do with me on his doorstep?”
“Any signs of abuse or mistreatment?”
“No, but—”
He shook his head, effectively cutting her off.
Frustration bubbled within her, and though her pride urged her to stand and walk away, her fear for her sister kept her firmly in her chair. She had to convince him. “Look, I know how this sounds—”
“Do you?” He picked up his beer and finished it in one swallow.
“I know my sister,” she repeated. “I raised her after our parents died.” It was like talking to a brick wall. She watched helplessly as he flagged down a passing waitress and asked for a dry cocktail napkin.
“Got a pen?” he asked Jessie.
She almost told him no, but in the end, she dug one out of her purse and handed it to him.
While writing on the small square of soft paper, he said, “Both of these men are honest and reliable.” When he was done, he handed it to her.
“You’re not going to help me?” She couldn’t quite bring herself to believe it.
“I told you I’m on vacation.” He rose from his chair. “Besides, I’m not into lost causes.”
Chapter 2
Cooper walked away, the reproach in Jessie’s eyes burning holes in the back of his skull. He felt like a heel, but he kept moving, despite the temptation to turn around and tell her he’d changed his mind. He reminded himself that he was nobody’s hero—he’d once tried and failed miserably. And a woman like Jessie Burkett, who cared too much to be thinking straight . . .
Damn! Robert Whitlock, of all people.
Not that he’d ever cared much for Whitlock. The man was too smooth for Cooper’s taste, but then, so were most of the men he worked for. And she might be right. Underneath all the polish, Whitlock could be a scumbag—it wouldn’t be the first time a judge turned bad. However, Cooper reminded himself, it wasn’t his job to find out. After all, he’d be taking on the whole damn system to go after Whitlock.
Nope, he didn’t want anything to do with Jessie Burkett and her crazy suspicions. His specialty was finding people, not exposing crooked government officials. Of course, she would say she wanted him to find Nicole, not expose her husband. It didn’t make a difference. He didn’t take on private clients like Jessie Burkett. Their emotions clouded their judgment, making life hell on the investigator. And God forbid if he made a mistake or the missing person turned up dead.
But he didn’t want to think about that.
If Jessie was lucky, the police would locate Nicole Whitlock unharmed. Or maybe one of the men he’d recommended would take on the case and find the missing woman. Either way, it wasn’t his problem.
Back on his boat, he considered calling Anderson and giving him hell for sending Jessie his way. Instead, Cooper pulled out his cell phone and noticed the list of missed calls he’d been ignoring for days. He erased them all. He didn’t want to talk to Anderson. Or anyone else, for that matter. What he wanted was to pull up anchor and head out toward the clear blue waters of the Caribbean.
Tomorrow, he promised himself, he’d be out of here. He’d be off to where no one could find him. Meanwhile, he had things to do, and thinking about Jessie Burkett, with her big eyes and voice like warm honey, wasn’t on his agenda.
Where women were concerned, however, things never did go as planned. Putting Jessie out of his mind was no exception, and for the next couple of hours as he readied his boat, his thoughts churned around the problem of Nicole Whitlock, her powerful husband, and her stubborn sister. So he figured it shouldn’t have surprised him when just after sunset, he found himself at The Dive, a bar well off the Lauderdale strip that had long ago become a favorite watering hole for half the local cops. He told himself he’d stopped in for a beer and maybe to ask a question or two, but he knew better.
He settled onto a stool next to Hal Framen, a detective he knew on the Lauderdale force. “Hey, Hal.”
The other man nodded without looking up from his drink. “Cooper. What drags you in here?”
“Can’t a man stop by for a beer?”
Hal grunted and took the last sip of his drink. “Not you. You want something.”
Cooper laughed lightly. “That’s what makes you such a good cop, Hal. Your unfailing instincts.”
“Just tell me what you want.” Hal signaled the bartender for another drink and a beer for Cooper.
Once the drinks arrived, Cooper said, “I need some information.”
“You working a case?”
“Nope.” He took a long swallow of his beer, assuring himself it was true. “Actually, I’m on my way out of town. I’m just helping out an acquaintance before I go.”
“Okay. Shoot.”
“What do you know about a missing-person report filed on Nicole Whitlock?”
For the first time since Cooper had sat down, Hal turned to look at him. “How did you hear about that?”
Cooper grinned. “I have my sources.”
Hal shook his head. “You wouldn’t have heard about this from your normal sources. This thing’s been kept real quiet.”
“Why’s that?”
“Judge Whitlock doesn’t need the whole damn world knowing that his wife’s missing. It could put her in serious danger.”
“That so?” Cooper turned back to his beer but not before noticing the slight tremor in Hal’s hand. “I would think she’s already in danger.”
“Look, Cooper.” Hal leaned closer, his voice low. “This ain’t a case you need to be nosing around in.”
Cooper shrugged. “Hey, I’m just looking for a little info.”
“And you already know more than you should.”
“Finding people is my specialty, Detective.”
“Are you sure you ain’t working for someone?”
“I’m sure.” Cooper finished his beer. “I’m heading out first thing in the morning.”
“Good. You make sure you do that.”
Cooper knew when he’d worn out his welcome. “Right. No problem.” Standing, he tossed a ten-dollar bill on the bar. “The drink’s on me.” Then he turned and worked his way through the steadily growing crowd to the front door.
All the way back to the marina, Cooper pondered his conversation with Framen. Something wasn’t right. Usually with a missing-person case, the cops would have jumped at Cooper’s offer to help. Not this time. The “No Trespassing” sign had been as clear as the gin Hal had been downing just a little too fast.
That was another thing.
Cooper had known Hal to put away a beer or two, maybe more, but he hardly ever drank straight liquor. And never like he’d been doing tonight.
As he headed back to the marina, Cooper’s phone buzzed.
Damn. He should have left the thing on the boat.
He considered ignoring it, pulled it out, and frowned at the unfamiliar number. Then, cursing under his breath, he pressed the talk button. “Yeah.”
“Mr. Cooper,” said a familiar husky voice that made him think of hot summer nights. “This is Jessie Burkett. I wouldn’t bother you, but I don’t know anyone else in town. I’m at the Fort Lauderdale police station and . . . I need you to come down here.” She paused, and Cooper imagined her pulling herself up a little straighter. “I’ve been arrested.”
Jessie paced the concrete floor from one end of the holding cell to the other. How long had it been since she’d left the message for Cooper? An hour? Two? Out of habit, she glanced at her wrist and then shook her head. The arresting officer had taken her watch along with her other personal belongings when he’d booked he
r.
It had been a humiliating experience. They’d treated her like a common criminal, hustling her away from her sister’s dark house in handcuffs, and then processing her with mug shots and fingerprints. She’d told them she was Nicole’s sister, and they had assured her they would inform Judge Whitlock. Meanwhile, until they could verify her alleged identity—and that the judge wouldn’t be pressing charges—she’d been booked for breaking and entering.
Grabbing the bars, she strained forward to see down the empty hall toward the heavy metal doors.
Instead of Cooper, she should have called Jacob—even though he was halfway across the country in Chicago—but she hadn’t wanted to spend a minute longer than necessary in this place. She’d told herself there would be plenty of time to call Jacob after she got out.
Of course, why she’d thought Cooper would help her escaped her reasoning at the moment. He’d looked at her today like she was nuts. At this point, she was beginning to agree with him.
“You ain’t gonna hurry things none by wearing a path in that floor,” said the large woman lying on the bunk behind her.
Jessie shrugged. “I can’t seem to sit still.”
“Well, you’re makin’ me crazy.”
It didn’t sound like a threat. Exactly. But Jessie decided not to push it. “Sorry.” Folding her arms, she moved to sit on the empty bunk.
Breaking into her sister’s house had seemed like a good idea to Jessie at the time. But then, hindsight always was better than foresight. She’d just been so frustrated. No one would listen to her, and she was determined to find Nicole. So Jessie had taken the first course of action that had come to mind.
“Burkett.” The sharp voice, accompanied by the rattling of keys, brought Jessie to her feet.
“Finally,” she said, instantly forgiving Cooper for taking so long.
The female officer led her through a labyrinth of corridors before opening the door to a small interrogation room. Cooper stood with his broad back to her, gazing out a dark, grainy window.
“Thank God,” she said, entering the room. “I was afraid—”
“Hello, Jessie.”
Startled, she spun toward the sound of the familiar male voice behind her. “Robert.”