by Lisa Jackson
On the first floor he zipped up his jacket and walked outside. The city was ablaze with light, the sky was black and the wind, whistling down from the Columbia River Gorge, was bitterly cold. Ice glazed the streets. Patches of snow, piled against the curb from the plow, contrasted with the black asphalt.
Jake’s Bronco was parked two streets over. He stopped beneath the street lamp to pull on a pair of gloves when he noticed a silver Mercedes idling at the curb.
Robert Fisher climbed out of the back seat, straightened the lapels of his black overcoat and, head bent against the wind, started for the building.
Jake’s diaphragm tightened. He didn’t breathe for a minute as the man snaked his way through the revolving doors. It was hard to imagine Robert Fisher as Kimberly’s husband . . . her lover.
And now he was trying to buy Lindsay.
Jake stretched his gloves over his fingers and walked briskly to his Bronco. Obviously Fisher didn’t understand Kimberly at all, or he wouldn’t have made his ridiculous offer. Half a million dollars for a child, was he kidding?
Climbing into the cool interior of his Bronco, he thought of Sam. No amount of money could replace him. Nor could it buy Fisher custody of Kimberly’s daughter.
He jammed his key into the ignition, and the Bronco’s cold engine sputtered twice, finally firing on the third try. Shoving the truck into gear, he guided it through the thick evening traffic and turned south. He started for Sellwood, but changed his mind and headed home.
With a cold sense of certainty, Jake knew Fisher was beginning to panic. And there was a good chance he would try to bolt—with Lindsay. Gritting his teeth, Jake suffered through the traffic delays and finally, nearly half an hour later, pulled into the driveway of his house in Lake Oswego.
With Lupus on his heels, he raced into the house, packed a bag and set his plan into motion by calling Ron Koski. Then, whistling to the dog, he headed back outside. “You’ve got a job to do,” he said as Lupus bounded into the passenger side of the Bronco. He scratched the white shepherd behind the ears. “Be on your toes tonight, okay?”
The dog whined and pricked his ears forward.
Jaw set, Jake backed out of the drive. Tonight or tomorrow or whenever Fisher decided to stray, Jake intended to beat him at his own game.
* * *
Kimberly wheeled around the corner of her street and noticed Jake’s Bronco parked at the curb near the house. Despite her long day at work and fighting the Christmas shopping crowd, she smiled as she pulled into the driveway.
Stashing her packages—a small bike, two games, a book and a stuffed animal—in the garage beneath an old blanket, she tried to keep her heartbeat under control.
She hurried inside and found Jake, Arlene and Lindsay diligently packing cookies into tins. The kitchen was covered with cooling racks and cookies shaped like trees, dusted with sugar or decorated with green frosting and red cinnamon candies.
“Hi, mommy,” Lindsay said, looking up from her work. She and Jake were struggling with a red bow on a round tin decorated with a reprint of a Currier and Ives Yuletide lithograph.
“We don’t already have enough cookies? Or do we need another twenty dozen?” Kimberly deadpanned.
“These are for all Lyle’s relatives,” Arlene explained.
Kimberly surveyed the kitchen slowly. “He must have an incredible family tree.”
“Oh, we give them to friends, too. And there’s always the church bazaar in the nursing home.”
“And a few left over?” Kimberly teased.
“Just a few,” Arlene admitted, her eyes twinkling.
“Arlene says we can keep some!” Lindsay shouted excitedly.
“But not many. What was it—ten, or twelve dozen?” Jake asked, giving up on the bow and straightening. He grabbed Kimberly’s hand and squeezed it.
“Very funny,” Arlene remarked, but she chuckled. “You three just run along, and I’ll finish up here.”
“Run along?”
Lindsay tied the bow, but it slipped off the tin. She gave up and trotted over to her mother. “They’re singing Christmas songs—”
“Carols,” Arlene corrected.
“—carols in the park. Jake said he’d take us.”
“When?”
Jake glanced at his watch. “Ten minutes ago. We were just about to give up on you.”
Kimberly grinned. “So, what’re we waiting for?” She helped Lindsay into her coat, boots and mittens, and prodded Arlene into joining them, but Arlene would have none of it.
“I’m too busy here. Besides, I don’t want to go out and freeze my tail off just to hear some kids singin’. Now, go on—it’ll just take me a few minutes to finish up.”
Lindsay bounded for the front door and opened it. Lupus, waiting patiently outside, started to run in, but Jake caught him on the porch and snapped a leash on his collar.
Kimberly eyed the dog. “The whole family, eh?”
“It’s almost Christmas,” Jake explained. “I didn’t want to leave him alone.” He smiled, but his eyes didn’t warm as they usually did, and for the first time, Kimberly noticed a small duffel bag in the corner of the porch. Jake’s duffel bag. He intended to spend the night. One part of her was thrilled, until she saw again the wariness in his eyes. “Come on, we’re late.”
They hustled across the street to the park. Lindsay, holding hands with both of them, skipped as she hurried along the snow-crusted path. Lupus strained against the leash, sniffing the ground and leading the way.
Evergreens, their branches drooping from the weight of the snow, flanked the walkway. Soft light from street lamps glistened against the white snow, and a few flakes fell from the sky. The sound of Christmas carols drifted through the trees, growing louder as Kimberly, Jake and Lindsay approached a clearing near the pond. “God rest ye merry gentlemen, let nothing ye dismay . . .”
The carolers, fourth-graders from a local church, sang from the risers placed near the lake. A crowd had gathered nearby.
“I can’t see,” Lindsay said, frustrated by the tall people in front of her.
“We can take care of that.” Jake handed Kimberly the leash, then swung the little girl onto his shoulders, giving her a birds-eye view of the singers. “How’s that?” he asked.
She held his head for dear life. Her mittened fingers clutched his hair. “It’s good,” she said, enthralled.
Kimberly’s heart felt as if it had lodged permanently in her throat. Jake, the man who never wanted any more children, who wouldn’t let himself get that emotionally strapped again, and Lindsay, a child whose father considered her an imposition, something to own—together they were laughing and as happy as if they were father and daughter.
Stop it, she told herself, angry at the romantic turn of her thoughts. How could she even project to a future that was so uncertain?
Jake brushed a snowflake from her nose, and her heart twisted.
We all belong together, she thought. Jake closed his fingers over her hand. He stared at her, and she wondered if he could read her mind. Did he know that she imagined them a perfect little family, without the problems of their past, with the future as silver lined as the moon-washed snow?
How ridiculous. But the vision wouldn’t fade.
“Hark the herald angels sing . . .”
Lindsay giggled. “That’s what Lyle calls me,” she said. “An angel.”
Jake, his left hand wrapped firmly around both of Lindsay’s ankles, winked at Kimberly. “Is that so? Where are your halo and wings?”
“Tell him they’re at the cleaners,” Kimberly put in.
“That’s silly!” Lindsay laughed gaily, and Kimberly thought she couldn’t be happier. Snuggled close to Jake, listening to the sounds of Christmas music punctuated by Lindsay’s childish giggles, she felt the magic of the season and the wonder of this one very special man.
“Silver bells. Silver bells. It’s Christmastime in the city . . .”
Lupus’s ears pricked forward. Rest
less, he pulled on the leash and walked behind her. “Come here,” Kimberly whispered, but the white dog padded back and forth, sniffing the air, his eyes trained on the thicket of trees that divided one edge of the park from the noise and traffic of the street.
“I see a car like Daddy’s,” Lindsay proclaimed from her perch. She stretched a chubby arm toward the street.
Kimberly tried not to panic. “It’s probably just one that looks like his.”
Shaking her head, Lindsay said, “I don’t think so.”
Jake’s lips compressed, and his eyes narrowed as he stared over the heads in front of him, looking in the direction of Lindsay’s outstretched arm, her eyes squinting against the darkness and falling flakes.
Kimberly’s chest constricted. “Is it—”
“I don’t see anything,” he said.
Lupus whined, tugging on the leash.
“He must smell a squirrel,” Kimberly said, trying to push all thoughts of Robert aside.
“Or a rat.” Jake, too, was watching the dog. His fingers tightened around Lindsay’s ankles.
The carolers broke into “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” and ended the program. Jake helped Lindsay to the ground, but didn’t let go of her hand.
Kimberly shivered, but not from the cold. A chill settled in her bones. There was something Jake wasn’t telling her, something he’d learned today, something about the custody hearing.... Something that wasn’t good. That’s why he’d shown up with Lupus and his overnight bag.
As the crowd splintered in different directions, Jake, Kimberly and Lindsay trudged to the house. Inside, Lindsay demanded hot chocolate and popcorn, which they devoured along with several of Arlene’s sugar-dusted cookies.
“Okay, kiddo, it’s time for bed,” Kimberly said, wiping the colored sugar crystals from Lindsay’s cheek.
“Not yet.” Lindsay protested loudly, but Kimberly managed to carry her upstairs, bathe her, read her a story and turn out the lights by nine-fifteen. “I love you, Mommy,” Lindsay whispered as Kimberly kissed her cheek.
“I love you, too, sweetheart.”
When Lindsay nestled deep between the covers, Kimberly padded quietly downstairs. She found Jake in the living room, staring out the front window. He snapped the blinds shut on all the windows as she reached the bottom step.
“There’s something you should know,” she said, taking a seat on the arm of the over-stuffed couch. “I think Bill Zealander, a man I work with, is involved with Robert.”
Jake’s jaw clenched. He leaned his back against the fireplace. “Go on.”
She explained about her conversation with Zealander and the times she’d seen him with Robert.
Jake’s face grew hard, his expression brooding. “Why didn’t you tell me you thought you were being watched?”
“Because it sounded so paranoid.” She shoved her hair out of her face. “I thought I was being overly sensitive, hysterical about nothing.”
“And now?”
“Now I don’t know,” she admitted.
“Does Bill Zealander drive a white station wagon?”
“I—I don’t know.”
“I saw a wagon follow you out of the parking lot after Diane’s wedding,” he said, thinking aloud. “It could’ve been the same car up on the mountain.”
Kimberly felt numb inside.
“Is there anything else?”
“I’m not sure,” she admitted with a sigh. “But there’s some gossip about Robert at the bank. He’s moving money around.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll find out.”
“No!” He shoved himself upright and leaned over her, his face only inches from hers. “I don’t think you should take the chance.”
“What chance?”
“If Fisher’s really going to blow town, he might try to grab Lindsay.”
“Blow town?” she repeated, dumbstruck. “You think he’s leaving?”
“I don’t know.” He strode into the bedroom, opened her closet and found her suitcase. He flung it on the bed and snapped it open. “You’ve got to leave.”
“Leave?”
“Yes. I know a place—a beach house of a friend of mine. You and Lindsay’ll be safe there.”
Her heart chilled and she licked her lips nervously as she found her courage. “Okay, McGowan,” she said softly, her hands clutching the bedpost in a death grip, “what happened today?”
Jake leaned one knee on the bed. “I saw Ben Kesler. He seems to think Robert will go to any lengths to get his daughter.”
“I already told you that.” She eyed him closely, and a cold fear settled in the pit of her stomach. “There’s something more, isn’t there—something you’re not telling me?”
He hesitated.
“Look, we had a deal. Remember? You keep me informed on everything, and I do what you say. So far I’ve kept my end of the bargain.”
He straightened. “I’ve got a hunch that Fisher’s not going to wait around for any court date to try to win his daughter.”
She was shaking inside. “Why?”
Raking his fingers through his hair in frustration, he turned and faced her. “Because it’s only a matter of time before the police link him to organized crime in Portland.”
“I’ve heard this all before . . .” She started out the bedroom door, but Jake grabbed her arm and spun her around so quickly the breath escaped from her lungs in a gasp.
“I’m serious,” he said calmly. “I don’t think you should take any chances.”
“You’ve talked to the police?” she said, guessing, her throat so dry it barely worked.
“No, but I know someone who has. And my guess is that Fisher knows what’s going down, too.” His jaw clenched tight. “I talked to Ben Kesler today. Robert’s willing to pay you five hundred thousand dollars for custody.”
“What?!”
“I told him you weren’t interested.”
“And?” she whispered.
“He said Fisher would up the ante.”
Sick inside, she said, “But that doesn’t mean—”
He grabbed hold of her arm. “You just told me he’s moving money around. The way I see it, there’s a damn good chance he’s gonna run. And if he does, my guess is he’ll try to take Lindsay.” His fingers dug deep into her arm. “He was your husband, Kim. You told me yourself that he’d stop at nothing to get what he wanted, and right now, for God-only-knows-what reason, he wants Lindsay.”
She didn’t want to believe him, but she saw the earnestness on his features. “What did you mean when you said Robert knows what’s going on?”
“That the police are going to bust him.”
“You’re sure?”
“No.” But his eyes were cold and convincing.
She sagged against the bed, and he sat beside her, holding her shoulders, supporting her.
“Now, tell me more about Bill Zealander.”
Heart pounding with dread, she told him everything she could think of, including Bill’s jealousy over the Juniper account and her friendship with Eric Compton. “And I’m sure he was the man who was following us on the ski slopes that day,” she said, rubbing her arms feeling cold to the bone.
“Then you’ve got to go away.”
“You mean hide out, don’t you?” she tossed back at him.
“However you want to look at it.”
She glanced through the bedroom door and down the hall to the Christmas tree shining brightly in the cozy little room. Tilting her chin up beautifully, she said, “I’m not going to run away,” she said, realizing that as many times as she thought of it, she couldn’t run, wouldn’t hide. She wasn’t going to let Robert or any other man force her into being a coward. “Lindsay’s my daughter, and unless he goes to court for her, he has no claim—”
“But he might not have the option of waiting around for the courts or his friend Monaghan to make that decision.” Jake clenched his teeth together. “Look, you said once you’d do
anything to save your child.”
“I will.”
“And you promised to do things my way.”
“But—”
He placed a finger to her lips. “Just listen, will you? Tonight we’ll pack, and then tomorrow you’ll pretend everything’s normal. Head for the bank as usual, have Arlene come over, but take Lindsay with you and go straight through Portland. About the time you should be at the bank, you’ll call your boss and tell him you’re sick. Then you’ll drive to the coast.” He reached into the pocket of his jeans and extracted a key. “I’ll meet you there later.”
“You’ve got it all worked out, haven’t you?” she asked, appalled. Things were moving too quickly. Trying to think, she walked into the living room.
“I hope so.”
“But I can’t leave. Not without some notice.”
His face turned back. “You hired me for one reason— Lindsay’s safety. Right? And even though you’ve been denying that your ex-husband is involved in organized crime, we both know you’re kidding yourself. So, unless you want to take the chance that Robert will take her from you, you’d better face the facts—you’ll have to hide out for a while.”
“But my job—”
“You’ve got a choice, Kimberly. The bank or Lindsay. Personally I think First Cascade will stumble along without you for a few days, but what about your daughter? How will she do without a mother?”
“Stop,” she hissed. “Lindsay’s more important to me than any job—”
“Is she?” he taunted. “Then prove it and do the smart thing.”
She plopped down in a rocker and tucked her knees beneath her chin. “I hate to be bossed around.”
“I know, but you hired me,” he pointed out. “Not the other way around.”
He was right and she knew it. But she despised the thought of being manipulated by Robert. And all of Jake’s talk about organized crime—she hated to face it. Deep in her heart she knew Robert was involved in something dark and sinister. She couldn’t hide her head in the sand and expect to protect herself and Lindsay.