Passionate Kisses

by Various

  She could feel his tension as he jabbed the gear shift in each place. Heavy sighs hung in the air. She wanted to slide her hand onto his leg, to ease the tension gripping him, but couldn’t. She couldn’t muster the nerve to make the contact with him.

  One thing was certain, Chelsea Montgomery wasn’t a brave soul. If she had an ounce of that trait, she would’ve stayed in Wilson and raised her own child. If bravery was one of her traits, she’d be able to tell Jordan she was still in love with him and would always be.

  He pulled up to the curb in front of the woman’s house, jumped out, and slammed the door behind him. With fists jammed into his jeans pocket and his jaw set in a taut line, he stomped up the walkway. The dark eyes were directed away from her and kept there.

  By Jordan’s side on the porch, she knocked softly on the door. They waited, but no response.

  She rang the doorbell. Another few minutes went by without a response. “I don’t think anyone is here,” she said softly.

  “It would figure. Let’s go.”

  They walked down the sidewalk. Jordan’s long legs kept him a few steps ahead of her. The door swung open behind them.

  “Hello,” the female voice said from the opened doorway.

  She turned and found the same woman standing on the porch with her hands clamped to her waist.

  “Hello,” said Chelsea, forcing a cheery voice. “I hope we didn’t bother you.”

  “Actually, you did,” claimed the woman. “What can I help you with?” As they walked closer to the porch she didn’t bother to move from her perch at the top of the stairs, suggesting the visit would be very short and they were not welcome. Her once friendly voice now bone chilling cold.

  “I’m sorry. We have one more question for you.”

  “I don’t know what part of it you don’t understand. I told you I don’t know where they are,” the woman insisted with an urgent flare. She moved her hands through the air while she talked.

  “I do understand. You mentioned your daughter and Elizabeth were really close. Did you go to any of Elizabeth’s birthday parties or any other family celebrations?”

  In response, the woman nodded and rolled her eyes like she was sucked back in time and suddenly had become a teenager.

  Jordan stepped forward. Would he make a scene? Jordan never had been a violent type of person but she didn’t know him much anymore. Anything was possible when it came to one’s child. Chelsea put her hand on his shoulder but he pulled away.

  “Listen, lady,” he said with a rise in his voice, “we want to know if you know any of the Markales’ family. Is that too hard to handle?”

  The woman flinched back as if she had been smacked across her smug face. “Uh,” she began, “we attended all of Elizabeth’s birthdays.”

  “So you know any of their family or not?”

  Through gritted teeth the woman said, “Just Muriel. She was the only family that attended.”

  “What’s her last name?”

  “I don’t know. Hey,” said the woman, “if you’re their niece, then you should know this already.”

  “Thanks,” called Chelsea as they both ran to the SUV.

  “Wait,” the woman yelled, running toward the SUV.

  Jordan punched it into gear and ripped down the street. She laughed. Not her ‘it’s funny’ laugh. A laugh to relieve the anxiety building in her. Jordan let out another heavy sigh and turned the corner.

  “I hate this city,” he muttered.

  “Do you hate it because it’s where your daughter lived or because of some other reason?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” His grip tightened on the steering wheel, making his knuckles turn white.

  “Yes, it does.”

  “Why?”

  Tears began to fall like the rain outside. She stared at the drops hitting the glass with more intensity. It seemed to fit their mood.

  “Because if you talk about it, you might feel better.”

  “Nothing’s going to make me feel better.”

  “Why not?”

  He pulled over to the side of the road and switched the key off. He turned to her. “Do you really want to know what’s wrong?”

  “Yes.”

  “I hate this damn SUV. Pretty soon I’ll be chatting on my cellphone while waiting in line in the Starbucks drive-thru like that yuppie bitch back there.”

  She tried to hold back the giggle and said, “I’m sorry the car rental place only had these left.”

  “Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault.”

  “Okay.”

  “And I’m pissed we are not finding our daughter.”

  “But we’re trying.”

  “I thought I would be able to see her already. I thought you would know where she was.” Tears welled in his eyes. “I thought I would have been able to hold her in my arms by now. I thought wrong.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. She reached up to wipe the tears from his cheeks, leaving hers to flow freely. “If I could redo everything, I would.”

  “Do you want to know what’s worse?”

  “Yes.” She could barely say the single word.

  “The fact you are here with me only because I threatened you breaks my heart. Do you know that? It kills me to know you’re searching for Elizabeth because I’m making you. Not because you

  want to. You want to go back to your new life, away from me.”

  No, she wanted to yell at him, he had it all wrong. She wanted to find their daughter and send her home with him because she loved Jordan. But she held it all in. Instead, she wiped her tears, crossed her arms and stared out the side window again. She couldn’t say the words.

  Once he pulled back onto the highway, neither of them spoke. Jordan flicked on the radio and when they started getting close to her town, she pointed him in the direction they needed to go.

  She wanted to talk to him but was afraid; afraid of what she might say and how he might respond. One phrase would change the whole situation.

  The sight of her home brought a smile to her lips. A fountain sat underneath a sign announcing ‘Fairheight Apartments’. She guided him down the right side of the large apartment buildings to the very far back. With her car in Arizona, her spot sat empty. “Park there.”

  She had fallen in love with her apartment the first time she had looked at it. It had built in bookshelves and an entertainment center in the living room, a small dining room and den off the kitchen. The big bedroom came with a walk-in closet and its own bathroom that included a garden tub.

  Without having the luxury of hot relaxing baths in her youth, she’d taken advantage of it right away. At night, after a long day at work, she would light scented candles, fill the tub with scented bubble bath and read a great book while soaking. Only once her skin wrinkled would she get out of the beloved bath.

  Jordan walked throughout the apartment with wide amazed eyes. She watched him as he ran his fingers across her books sitting neatly on bookshelves, and fingered the doily on the back of her recliner and then her phone. She held her breath for a minute, afraid to intrude on his thoughts.

  “It’s weird.” His voice stayed low as if in a dream.

  “I know.”

  “Is this how it was for you? Coming into my house, I mean?” He turned toward her.

  “Yes.” She couldn’t handle the emotions about to break free. Logic, she reminded herself but knew that was almost pointless. How could she not love this man? She needed something to do, anything, to take control of herself.

  She walked into the kitchen and dragged the garbage can over to the fridge, then opened the door and began to toss out the food that would be spoiled before she returned from Arizona. Chicken breast, some opened tortillas, and cheese, along with skim milk and veggies.

  “It’s like I’ve walked into your life and am meeting you for the first time.” He had followed her into the kitchen.

  “I know.” She slowly nodded.

  He leaned against the counter next to the
fridge. “What are you doing?”

  “I don’t know when I’ll be back, so I might as well do this now. I also need to write checks for the utilities and rent.” She took her head out of the fridge and closed the door. “The den is through there if you want to make arrangements for our flight back.”

  He walked past her and disappeared through the open doorway as she took the garbage liner filled with nearly spoiled food and walked over to the front door. “Be back in a minute,” she called.

  “I’m taking this to the trash.”

  “I’ll do it for you. Leave it by the door.”

  “It’s okay, Jordan. I have to check the mail while we’re here anyway.” She pulled open the front door.

  Even though she loved Jordan and enjoyed his company, she needed a few minutes alone to think things over and eventually clear her thoughts. She took advantage of the short walk down to the Dumpster and then to the mailbox.

  The woman they’d visited earlier flashed in her mind. She had mentioned only Muriel and the fact someone had died. Was it Muriel? Why hadn’t they checked the birth and death records,

  she wondered as she took the stack of mail from her mailbox, then closed the little door and twisted the lock into place.

  She glanced through the envelopes and dropped the junk mail into the dumpster as she passed and then ran up the stairs to her apartment. “Jordan,” she called. “I don’t know why we didn’t

  check the birth or death records.”

  “We can probably do it online. We can also scan newspapers, too.”

  “Let’s see what we can bring up on them before we make our flight home.” She had done it again. Why did she keep referring to Jordan’s house as home? Home! And this time out loud!

  “I already booked it. We leave tomorrow morning.” If bothered by what she had said, he didn’t show it.

  “Let’s do a search for death records. Those are public so they should be free.”

  “I’m not worried about paying. What do you think about hiring a private investigator?”

  “No.” Fear gripped her.

  “Why not? They know how to do this sort of thing.”

  “But you found me. We will find her. We won’t give up until we do.”

  “You weren’t hard to find, Chels. Why don’t you want to hire someone?” he asked while typing the necessary words into the search engine on the internet. Within seconds, a list of websites popped up.

  CHAPTER 11

  “Because what I did was illegal and I certainly don’t want anyone to know about it.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Scroll down some.”

  “Oh all right,” he mumbled as she disappeared into the dining room to grab a chair.

  Her den only contained one, since she never had company over. Not one person had visited her in the whole five years she had lived in the apartment. Someone who hurt everyone in their life didn’t deserve new people. She tried hard to keep people out of her life. She had meant to keep it that way until she’d seen Jordan again.

  “Look here.” He pointed to the screen and clicked the cursor on the link. “Let’s check this one out.”

  The website advertised for finding everyone. Underneath the flashing ‘everyone’ it said the rates were ninety-five percent accurate. To make sense of the tiny writing, she needed to put her

  reading glasses on in order to see it. When she did, Jordan glanced over at her and smiled.

  “What?” She slid her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

  “You’re so hot in those.” He flashed her a smile.

  The room suddenly seemed to shrink. Either that or they were too close to each other. She leaned back in the chair. “My glasses?”

  “Yes,” he said before he looked back to the screen.

  “I look like a dork.” She laughed as she turned her attention to their search.

  “Should we start with Elizabeth Markales?” Jordan sighed, his voice draped with frustration.

  “It kills me to call her that, you know.”

  “She’s a kid. It might not show her. Let’s start with Monique or Zack first. Then we’ll do Muriel.”

  Jordan typed in the first name into the database. The screen blinked several times while the now searching sign blinked. Once again, she was thankful for the internet. She sighed as several

  squares popped onto the screen. On some of the squares it listed both Monique and Zack with little check marks indicating the site could find email, addresses, and phone numbers. Their city was listed as Portland, Oregon. Next to them Muriel Markales had been listed.

  “Bingo.” He tapped the screen with his index finger.

  “See what it says.”

  He was already clicking the link before her sentence had fully left her mouth. “Shit,” he cursed under his breath when the pay now button popped up.

  “Too good to be true.” She shook her head and sank back in her chair as all her hopes deflated.

  “I think we should do it,” he said, then read aloud from the screen. “Money back guaranteed if this isn’t who you are looking for.”

  “Okay. It’s weird there’s only one address for them. It should say where they moved to. Look up Lynn Johanson next.” She slipped her credit card out of her purse. “Here, let me put in my credit card information.”

  Jordan slid to the side so she could position herself in front of the monitor and keyboard. His hand brushed her thigh, sending sparks through her. It took effort to remind herself that the task at

  hand was much more important than his thigh resting against hers, or his hand moving to the back of her chair and his fingers playing with a strand of her hair. Denying the temptation was a lost cause. She wanted Jordan, and wanted him bad, but she could only admit it to herself.

  Even though she was supposed to be looking for her daughter, every part of her body yearned for Jordan’s touch. It wasn’t only the wanting him but she needed him. That was the unsettling part. They were only together to do a job so feelings shouldn’t be involved. They would move on in separate directions as soon as they found Elizabeth. She could not have him.

  She could fantasize about the what-ifs and never have to tell him. She remembered when they were together. The first time they had made love glistened in her mind.

  “Damn it.” He slammed his fist on the desk, startling her away from her sexual thoughts.

  “What?” She watched as he pointed at the screen.

  “The only known address is the one we went to. It seems they fell off the face of the earth.” is ran his fingers through his hair.

  “Let’s look up Lynn. Maybe she’ll give us some information.”

  He typed in the information. Unlike the Markales’ results, several Lynn Johansons popped up. They paid the fee and dialed the numbers listed. The first several were not the Lynn they were

  looking for.

  “It’s crazy so many people have the exact same name,” she said while listening to the phone ring.

  “Voicemail or anything?” He tapped his foot against the tile.

  “None so far.”

  The ringing stopped. “Hello?” the voice on the other end said.

  “Can I speak to Lynn Johanson, please?” She crossed her fingers on the desk.

  A lot of background noise made it hard to hear her say, “This is she. Make it quick, I’m busy.”

  “I’m enquiring about the house you purchased in Portland.” She recited the address.

  “It’s been sold for some time now. Have a good afternoon.” The typing stopped.

  “Wait!” She thought the call had already been cut off. “Hello?”

  “Yes?”

  Jordan scribbled Is it her? on a piece of paper he yanked out of the printer. She nodded. He put his hand on the back of her chair and played with a strand of her hair. She leaned back toward his touch but made herself stay focused on the phone call.

  “It’s an emergency and I’m trying to locate the previous owners of the house.”

  “Oh
.” The woman covered the phone, but Chelsea could still hear her. “This will take a minute or two. Go take a break.”

  She smiled at Jordan and gave him a thumbs up sign.

  “I don’t know if I have anything that’ll help you.” The words were followed by a loud blowing sound. Was the woman taking this opportunity for a smoke break herself?

  “Are you a relative of the Markales?” asked Chelsea. Jordan had removed his hand from her chair to pass her the pen and notepad.

  “I bought the house shortly after it went on the market. The realtor said something about it going up the week before.”

  “Did you meet them?” She scribbled down everything the woman said. They were getting closer, she could feel it.

  “No. The house was empty when I viewed it with my realtor. So beautiful! The plans fell through for me to transfer there so I turned around and sold it again. I made a good profit.”

  “Nice,” she said with a tinge of sarcasm. “So you bought the house from them without a meeting of any kind? Did anyone tell you why the Zack and Monique Markales were selling?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t buy the house from anyone named Zack or Monique. Hold on, let me check my papers.” The ruffling of papers was in the background.

  “Muriel Markales sold the house.”

  She dropped the pen in shock but did her best to keep her composure at the revelation of the new piece to their puzzle. “Ma’am, we really need your help finding Muriel or her brother and

  sister-in-law. There’s been a death in the family and it’s imperative we find them.”

  “That is terrible. I’ll help you in any way I can.”

  She grabbed Jordan’s hand as if he was some sort of good luck charm. “I know it’s wrong to give out other people’s information but can you? We need all the information we can get on them. Nobody has been willing to help us so far.”

  “Well, let me see here. Muriel Markales.”

  Then the woman told her the address and telephone number of Muriel. She scribbled down the information. “That’s all I have.”

  She let out a sigh of relief. “This looks like it’s enough. Thank you so much, Ms. Johanson.”