by Patricia Kay
As if you could call six feet tall, broad shoulders, golden brown hair, and eyes-to-die-for normal, Nicole thought.
“Elise worked backstage designing scenery,” he added. “She and Jenny met, and the two of them became friends.”
“How long ago was this?” Nicole asked, interested in spite of herself.
“About two years ago. Anyway, because my work takes me all over the world for long periods of time, I didn’t meet Elise until Jenny had known her for about a year.”
By now Jack had eased the Miata onto St. Charles Avenue and they were creeping along with all the other slow-moving morning traffic.
“Jenny said she knew from the very beginning that there was something terribly wrong with Elise’s life. Gradually, as Jenny spent more time with her, she figured out that Elise was in an abusive marriage.”
Nicole heard how Jack’s voice had hardened. “Physically abusive, you mean?”
“Yes, although there was a lot of emotional abuse, too. Jenny says that it wasn’t long before she began noticing bruises that Elise tried to cover up. It took a long time, but eventually Elise admitted to Jenny that her husband—his name is Derek—beat her.”
Nicole shuddered. She couldn’t imagine living with that kind of man. She thought about her father—how kind and loving he was—and her brothers, and how much they adored their wives. Even Mark, who’d turned out to be a real loser, had never physically mistreated her. If anything, he’d treated her as if she were somebody special. That had been one of the reasons she’d been so crazy about him. Of course, she’d had no idea their whole relationship was a lie.
Jerking her thoughts back to the present, Nicole forced herself to speak. “That’s awful, but if it’s true, why is your sister so worried? I’d think she’d be glad her friend finally left that.. .jerk.”
“It’s complicated. Jenny feels guilty because she encouraged Elise to leave her husband. She knew Elise was afraid of being alone. She said she told Elise that if she ever felt she could leave, all she had to do was call, and Jenny would help her. And then, Elise did call. She called several times, leaving frantic messages on Jenny’s answering machine. Jenny thinks something really terrible happened, and Elise simply couldn’t stand it anymore.”
“I’m not sure I understand—”
“Jenny was out of the country when Elise called. When she finally got the messages, Elise was gone.”
“I still don’t understand why your sister—Jenny—is so worried. I mean, there are lots of places Elise could have gone. She could be in a women’s shelter somewhere.”
“Jenny and I have checked all the shelters.”
“Then she’s probably with her family. When you find the right Cantrelle family, you’ll probably find her.”
“I’ve called every Cantrelle in the New Orleans phone book.”
“No one here has heard of her?”
“No one.”
Nicole frowned. “But she said she was from New Orleans?”
“Yes. She told Jenny she grew up in New Orleans.”
“Have you tried some of the outlying towns? A lot of people refer to themselves as ‘being from New Orleans’ when they’re really from Kenner or Metairie or Gretna.”
“I’ve tried all the towns around.”
“Maybe you should think about going a little farther out. Maybe Elise said she was from New Orleans because that’s the last place she lived. Maybe she’s from Slidell or Morgan City or Shreveport.” Her voice grew thoughtful. “Actually, she could be from anywhere.” Nicole bit her bottom lip. She loved puzzles and games, and Jack’s quest for the missing Elise was very like a puzzle. Now that she’d decided to listen to him, she found herself caught up in it. “Did she tell your sister anything at all about her family?”
“Well, we know her mother died when Elise was nineteen, and that she’d never known her father.”
“She’d never known her father? What do you mean by that?”
“She said her mother and father weren’t married.”
“But she said Cantrelle was her father’s name?”
“According to Jenny.”
“Did she go by the name Cantrelle before she was married?”
“No. She used her mother’s name—Sonnier.”
“Have you tried to locate any of her mother’s family?”
“I wouldn’t even know where to start. Besides, she told Jenny she had no family.”
“And that was all she ever said about her parents?”
“Well, one other thing. She thought her father had been a lawyer.”
“A lawyer!” Nicole wasn’t sure why that piece of information startled her. Why shouldn’t he be a lawyer? She could think of three lawyers in her own family—two cousins and her Uncle Justin. “What did Elise do in Houston?”
“She had no job at the time, but when Jenny met her she said she’d been a legal secretary in the past.”
Nicole felt goosebumps break out on her arms. “Like me,” she said softly.
“Yes. Like you.”
“Is that how you found me?”
“Yes, I checked all the law firms in New Orleans.”
“How did you do that?”
Jack slanted a glance her way. A half smile hovered around his lips. “I just called the firm, asked to speak to Miss Cantrelle and waited to see if someone answered.” Nicole shivered. She was no longer afraid of Jack, but it scared her to think how easily information could be obtained.
They were now close to the downtown business district, and Nicole glanced at her oversized watch. Ten minutes past eight. She had plenty of time. Her office didn’t open until eight-thirty.
“Jack, there’s something I’m still confused about. What makes you think Elise is using the name Cantrelle?”
“At the theater, she was known as Elise Cantrelle. It was a long time before Jenny knew her real name.”
“Why would she pretend to have another name?”
“Well, from what she told Jenny, Derek Arnold was insanely jealous. The reason Elise didn’t work is because he didn’t want her around other men. He didn’t want her to do anything except tend to his needs. The work with the theater group was done behind his back.”
“So you think, because she used the name Cantrelle once, she’d use it again.”
“Yes. Both Jenny and I feel the use of her father’s name was symbolic to her. A way of saying she had an identity, that she belonged to someone.”
“Oh, how sad all this is.” Nicole thought about all the people who loved her. How, if anything bad happened to her, they’d all close ranks and protect her. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like to have no one. “So tell me just how she disappeared.”
“Derek was out of town on business. He’s a manufacturer’s rep. He’d been gone three days. From what Jenny says, he always called home at the same time every night, and Elise had to be there to accept the call. If not, I guess there’d be hell to pay when he got home. Well, on the last night of his trip, when he called home, there was no answer. When he kept calling and still got no answer, he called the telephone company, and they checked the line. They told him there was something wrong with it.”
“And was there?”
“No. The outside phone line was cut, and Derek says Elise must have cut it to make it seem as if there was trouble so he wouldn’t be suspicious.”
“Do you believe that?”
Jack shrugged. “I’m not sure.”
“So when he got home he found her gone?”
“Yes.”
Nicole sighed. “This is a very sad story, Jack, and I sympathize with how your sister feels, but honestly, I can’t help you.”
“Won’t you at least ask around? Talk to some of your family? See if maybe someone knows something?”
“I already did,” Nicole admitted. “I talked to my father over the weekend. He didn’t know anything.”
They had now entered the French Quarter, and Jack turned his attention to his driving. It alway
s amazed Nicole that anyone would even attempt to navigate the narrow, cobbled streets. “Why don’t you just let me out here?” she suggested. “It’s not far to the office.”
“That’s okay. I’ve come this far. I might as well take you all the way.”
Soon he had pulled up in front of the wrought-iron gates in front of her building. Nicole reached for the door handle.
“Wait. Don’t go in just yet.” His gaze rested on her face.
“I’ve got to, Jack.”
“I’d really like to see you again.” His voice had taken on a husky edge. “And not just because I want you to help me.”
“I don’t think so,” she said regretfully. She’d made up her mind, during that long nine months while she waited for Aimee’s birth, that she would never again become involved with a man unless he was looking for commitment and a lasting relationship. Jack Forrester was just looking for Elise Arnold. Being around him would be inviting trouble into her life.
Because she was too attracted to him. And he was only going to be around for the short term.
He started to say something else, then stopped. He nodded. “Okay.” He held out his hand. “Thanks for listening. And good luck to you.”
She took his hand, feeling its solid warmth and strength. “Good luck to you, too. I hope you find Elise.”
“Can I at least give you one of my cards? Just in case you should think of something?”
How could she refuse to take his card? When he handed it to her, she accepted it.
And then she opened the door and got out. She didn’t look back.
* * *
All day long Nicole found her thoughts wandering back to the morning’s ride. To Elise Arnold and the mystery surrounding her disappearance.
And to Jack.
More specifically, to the strong attraction she felt for him. It was a shame that the first man to really get her engine going had to be someone like Jack—a wanderer who would probably never lead a normal life.
All day long she worked automatically.
All day long she told herself she’d done the right thing by telling him she didn’t want to see him again.
Late in the afternoon, Julianne emerged from her office and perched on the corner of Nicole’s desk. “You seem preoccupied today,” she commented. “Something wrong?”
Nicole was tempted to tell Julianne about Jack because her boss was astute when it came to assessing a situation and giving good advice. “Nothing’s wrong. I just...oh, never mind.”
“Are you sure?”
Because Nicole really did want to talk about Jack, she found herself telling Julianne all about the events of the past few days, from the moment she’d realized he was following her until he dropped her off at the office that morning.
“Why don’t these kinds of things ever happen to me?” Julianne said. “I never meet anyone interesting or sexy.”
Nicole laughed. “That’s because you hang out with lawyers all day long.”
Julianne raised her eyebrows. “I think it probably has more to do with the way you look as opposed to the way I look.”
“There’s not a thing wrong with the way you look,” Nicole said loyally. There wasn’t. Julianne was perky and pretty. Her only problem was she was far brighter and more successful than most of the men she met. Nicole thought Julianne probably intimidated them. Sometimes she even intimidated Nicole! Besides, she didn’t suffer fools gladly, so she had never perfected the art of flattery. And in Nicole’s experience, most men liked to be flattered, even if it was only by a woman listening to what they had to say... and not contradicting them. Or maybe the problem was that Julianne just hadn’t met anyone strong enough to meet her on equal terms.
“I have a feeling you’re regretting sending this hunk on his way,” Julianne said.
Nicole grimaced. “Maybe a little, but there’s no future in it, so why start anything with him?”
“Why indeed?” Julianne picked at her thumbnail. “Unless, of course, a woman just wanted to have some fun. Just wanted to take her pleasure and enjoy it while it lasted.”
“I can’t do that.” Even if she wanted to do something like that, Nicole had Aimee to think of.
“I know. I was only teasing you.”
“So you think I made the right decision.”
Julianne hopped off the desk. “I know you made the right decision.” She grinned. “But you could introduce him to me! I wouldn’t mind having some fun.”
Nicole threw a paper clip at Julianne as she made a face at her and disappeared into her office once more. Julianne was right. Nicole had made the right decision. Jack Forrester didn’t belong in her life. She would put him out of her mind, once and for all. And since she’d never see him again, that should be fairly easy.
At five o’clock, she began clearing off her desk. By five-fifteen, she was on her way downstairs. A few seconds later, she opened the gates and stepped out onto the sidewalk.
Sitting there at the curb was a royal blue Miata.
And standing next to it was Jack Forrester, blue eyes gleaming in the dusky light.
Chapter 4
“What are you doing here?”
His mouth tipped in an apologetic half smile. “I know what we agreed. But I changed my mind.” He opened the passenger door.
Nicole looked at him for a long moment, mesmerized by the expression in his eyes. She could feel her heart beating, its rhythm relentless: don’t go, don’t go, don’t go.
She wanted to look away, but his gaze held her spellbound. A dead leaf skittered across the sidewalk, lifted by a gust of wind, and the spell was finally broken.
She climbed into the car.
She was grateful when he didn’t try to talk to her as he navigated the heavy traffic in the Quarter. Nicole used the respite to study him. She liked the way his hands looked against the steering wheel, against the gearshift. They were tanned and square, with long fingers, and they moved swiftly and competently, with no wasted motions.
She liked watching his strong, muscular legs work the clutch and gas pedal. Each time he changed from one to the other, his thighs strained against his jeans.
She liked the clean, solid look of his profile and the tangy scent of his cologne. She liked—
Oh, please. Is there anything you don’t like about Jack Forrester?
Nicole smothered a giggle.
Jack slanted a look at her. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing.” But she smiled.
He braked for a red light and turned to really look at her. “Nothing has certainly put a sparkle in your eyes.” He returned her smile. “You’re very beautiful when you smile.”
Nicole’s smile faded. “Jack, why did you come back?”
The light changed, and he didn’t answer for a few seconds. But once they’d crossed Canal Street, he said, “I just couldn’t leave New Orleans without seeing you again.”
Nicole’s heart skittered just as the dead leaf had earlier. She knew her reaction was crazy. Jack could have meant anything by his answer. He could have meant he hadn’t given up on the idea that she could help him find Elise Arnold. But some primal instinct told her that wasn’t all there was between them. Nicole knew he was attracted to her, just as she was to him. And that’s what was crazy, because they could never have any kind of relationship. Jack’s presence in her life would be fleeting at best. And Nicole wasn’t interested in fleeting. She was interested in permanent.
“Are you sorry I came?” he asked softly. He reached over and touched her hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of it.
Something stirred deep in her belly. She swallowed. “No, I’m not sorry you came.”
He smiled. After a moment, Nicole smiled, too.
* * *
Jack had told her the truth. He wasn’t sure what he wanted from Nicole; he only knew he couldn’t walk away from her. He hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind. He’d spent the entire day, after he’d dropped her off at work in the morning, trying to
decide what to do next. Finally he’d sat down at the little table in the kitchen of his apartment, got out his notebook and reviewed all his notes.
Every lead had been followed. Every lead had turned up a dead end. There was no reason to stay on in New Orleans.
Yet he couldn’t bring himself to leave.
How could he leave when the only concrete clue he had was Nicole’s uncanny resemblance to Elise Arnold?
He made a list of other angles he might try. The list was short: the Louisiana Bar Association, the public library for the phone books of other cities in Louisiana. He couldn’t think of anything else.
Nicole’s lively face kept interrupting his thoughts. Her dark eyes, filled with fire and intelligence kept interfering with his concentration. Her sassy walk, the enticing curve of her cheekbones, those captivating dimples, the cloud of glossy curls that covered her head—all these images recurred so often he finally tossed down his notebook in disgust.
He would try one more time. There had to be some kind of connection between Nicole and Elise. He had to persuade Nicole to help him.
The next thing he knew he was on his way to her office. But now that he had her in his car, he wasn’t sure what to do next. If he pushed her too hard, she might decide she wouldn’t talk to him anymore. But if he didn’t try to get her to help him, then he was just wasting time.
And he didn’t have that much time to waste. Gerald Crampton, his boss and the news director of World Press, had been reluctant to grant Jack open-ended leave.
“All you’ve got coming to you is four weeks,” he’d said, punctuating his words with an unlit cigar that seemed to be a permanent fixture between his right index and middle fingers.
“I may need more time, sir,” Jack had answered.
Crampton narrowed his eyes.