The Princess and the Pauper

by Nancy Bush

  “Cawthorne?”

  Jesse gaze narrowed, then he recognized him. Chris Daley. Ex-cop. Portland police department.

  “Daley. What are you doing here?”

  “I work here, man. I’m the store detective. I’m the one who called you.” At Jesse’s blank expression, he peered at him closely. “They did send you, didn’t they?”

  If Jesse could have relived the last hour of his life, he would have never walked through Hollis’s front doors.

  “Yeah, they sent me.” And I only came because my brother works here.

  “Well, are you leaving now, or what? You don’t even know what’s going on.”

  Jesse gazed past Daley to the rain-drenched streets beyond the glass doors. He longed to be anywhere but where he was. It was all so complicated and it had just become more so. With an inward sigh, he asked, “Who knows about this?”

  “You, me, the department and Peter Hollis.”

  “What about April Hollis?”

  Daley shook his head. “Her father didn’t want me to confide in her. He wants to handle this himself and asked me to call the department. Besides, April’s new.”

  “How new is new?” Jesse asked.

  “She’s been here about four months.”

  “What about Jordan Taylor?”

  Chris Daley lifted his brows. “You already know about him? He’s my main suspect.”

  It took considerable restraint on Jesse’s part not to separate Daley’s head from his neck. With a tight smile, he asked, “Have you got a place where we can talk?”

  “Right this way.”

  With deepening dread, undercover Detective Sergeant Jesse Cawthorne followed Hollis’s gray-haired store detective.

  Jake’s Famous Crawfish had been a part of Portland for over a hundred years. Its St. Patrick’s Day celebration was a well-known tradition. The fact that the restaurant was wedged into a narrow, triangular-shaped building and boasted only a few booths and tables didn’t stop the revelers from filling it to bursting.

  April squeezed through the doorway and was immediately covered with narrow, green foil streamers. A man grabbed her and spun her merrily around in an impromptu dance, until he accidentally slammed an elbow into a waitress carrying a tray of drinks.

  “Hey!” the waitress yelled, her good humor stretched to breaking.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled, and April slipped past him.

  Rob Harding of Richard and Richards – middle-aged, balding, and possessing a keen sense of retailing – was one of the few actually seated at a narrow, straight-backed booth. Streamers hung from his crown. Unfortunately, every other seat in the booth was taken. It was either sit on Rob’s lap, or stand. She stood.

  “Hi, April!” he yelled above the din. “Have a green beer.” A glass mug was placed in her hand. “Meet my friends: Larry, Curly and Mo!”

  The three girls occupying the opposite side of the booth burst into hysterical laughter.

  “And this is their friend Groucho.” He draped an arm around the blond woman seated next to him.

  “Groucho was a Marx Brothers,” April reminded, sipping her beer.

  “Uh-uh.” Rob wagged a finger in front of his nose. “A well-kept secret. He was really the fourth Stooge!”

  “Who’s Groucho?” one girl at the booth giggled, as another wave of screaming laughter rose from the booth. April smiled. Inside she was dying. Her unexpected meeting with Jesse – Eden’s father, for God’s sake! – had left her weak and sick. He carried a gun. Just thinking about it, April’s skin crawled.

  She felt exactly the same way she had when, at seven years old, she’d learned her favorite aunt had died – that same lost, helpless misery that has no cure. The cherished memory of Jesse Cawthorne she’d carried close to her heart for nearly ten years, the rose-tinted vision she’d been unable to completely forget, had just died. It was over. He was dead.

  She drank deeply and choked. She’d begun to believe the fabulous fairy tale of Eden’s hero father. Too many lies told too often had become truth, even to April’s hardened heart. But Jesse had disproved the fable. It was over. He’d become… he’d become… A silent cry of anguish filled her lungs. She didn’t want to know what he’d become!

  “April?” Rob’s slaphappy grin faded a little at her expression.

  “This green beer tastes funny. Is it possible to order a Coke?”

  “Gawd, no!” one of the girls at the table declared, and Larry, Curly, Mo and Groucho exploded into another round of wild laughter.

  Chris Daley’s lair was a far cry from April’s opulent office. Down a narrow linoleum-tiled hallway, through a steel door, into a small shelf-lined cubicle – it was hardly first-class.

  But it was functional. The desk phone sported three rows of buttons, some flashing, and a state-of-the-art walkie lay beside it. There was a comfortable desk chair with a padded seat and arms, but the other chairs were metal and utilitarian, not unlike the interrogation chairs down at the precinct. The posted sign revealed that all shoplifters would be prosecuted.

  Daley eased himself into his chair in front of a Sony desktop computer and motioned Jesse to one of the metal ones. “Inventory’s been walking out on its own. Whole truckloads of it. Surveillance monitors are down the hall –“” He inclined his head in that direction “—but we’re not catching anyone. Someone on the inside is involved. It’s the only explanation.”

  Jesse stared down thoughtfully at the toes of his boots. “Someone’s embezzling inventory.”

  “Yep. And it’s coming from high up.” Daley jerked a thumb toward the ceiling for emphasis.

  “How high up?”

  “Well, it’s not Peter Hollis. He’s the one who thought something was off. Asked me to look into it. He also signs my paychecks, if you know what I mean.”

  “You got a guess?”

  “I’d put my money on Jordan Taylor. He was put in a position of authority, almost as soon as he got here, and that’s got suspicious written all over it, if you ask me.”

  Jesse nodded tightly. “Who promoted him?”

  “Must have been April.” The security man shrugged.

  Jesse felt sweat breakout between his shoulder blades. This was worse than he’d thought. When the captain had asked someone to check out the Hollis story, Jesse had instantly opted for the assignment. Jordan worked at Hollis’s. Jesse wanted to make sure he was kept well out of it.

  That was before Jesse had run into April. Seeing her had changed his mind. He didn’t want anything to do with the investigation now.

  Except that Jordan was involved. Deeply involved, apparently in a way Jesse couldn’t credit. He hadn’t realized how exalted Jordan’s position within the store was until just now. When this story broke open, Jordan would be a sitting duck. With his history of juvenile lawbreaking, he would be classified Suspect Number One. By Daley’s standards, he already was.

  And Jesse could bet Jordan’s juvenile record hadn’t even been examined yet.

  “Isn’t there anyone else who could have diverted that inventory?”

  “Sure. A handful of people. April Hollis herself.”

  “It’s not April Hollis,” Jesse hissed between his teeth. “Her father owns every Hollis store outright. I checked.”

  “She could still be stealing from him. Maybe there’s something we don’t know about.”

  “It’s not April.”

  Chris Daley looked unconvinced. “So what do you want to do first?”

  Jesse heaved a sigh and stared past Chris unseeingly. An undercover investigation where Jordan was involved chilled him to the marrow. If he possessed any professionalism at all, he would hand over this problem to someone not so personally involved, but Jesse had never been known for playing by the rules. His unorthodox methods had earned him slapped wrists more times than he cared to remember – and had brought him two promotions. He’d achieved a reputation over the years for taking the most dangerous jobs, the riskiest undercover positions. No one on the streets had
ever guessed the coolheaded loner, Jesse Cawthorne, was a first rate undercover man. He had a reputation – deserved – for being someone you simply didn’t cross.

  Because of his invaluable service to the department, the irony of all this was that Jesse was in line for another promotion, one that would remove him still further from his gritty street life. One that was better paying, had better hours and was safer.

  One that he didn’t want.

  Daley was still waiting. Jesse shoved back his chair and grimaced. “I guess I’ll interview the boss lady herself.”

  “How are you going to do that? Looking like that?” Daley jerked his head toward Jesse’s attire. “She’s going to wonder who the hell you are, and you’re going to blow your cover.”

  “I have to blow my cover, anyway. I need someone here – someone high up – to give me access to the files.”

  “Then I’d better call Peter Hollis and tell him to get down here.”

  Peter Hollis. What would he say when he saw Jesse? No. It couldn’t be Hollis. “I’m going to have to level with April.” At Daley’s expression, Jesse held up his hands. “If she’s guilty, we’ll find out just as easily. Call her father and tell him someone’s on the job. Don’t say who.”

  “Why not?” Daley asked curiously.

  “I got my reasons. Let April tell him.”

  “Okay.”

  Jesse smiled faintly as he headed out the door. He, who had made such a point of separating his job from his personal life, knew he was making a fatal mistake.

  April felt slightly dizzy. She grimaced at the mug of beer in her hand; it was definitely worse green.

  She was leaning against the wall behind the booth. Rob and friends seemed eager to include her, but April was almost happier being left alone. She wondered what Eden was doing just now. It killed her to think her daughter was having a whale of a birthday while she was here, damn close to crying in her beer.

  “The little ingrate,” April said fondly, aloud.

  “Who?” Rob asked.

  “Oh, shut up and come work for me.” April actually had the nerve to lean over and plant a kiss on his bald pate. “I’m sick of wooing you.”

  “April, if you would just offer me enough money, I’d be there like that.” He made a dismal attempt to snap his fingers.

  “Last time you told me it wasn’t the money. As I recall, you mentioned dirty words like ‘loyalty to your employer.’”

  “Did I? Well, that was before I was put out to pasture.”

  April blinked, unsure if the beer had affected her hearing. Was that bitterness in Rob’s tone. “Are you serious?”

  “Good grief, no!” He laughed heartily and his friends laughed with him. “I’m too young to be old.”

  April was almost relieved. Though she wouldn’t mind having Rob come to work for her, it was mainly a joke between them.

  Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Roger Norville standing by the bar. She wondered how Jordan’s interview with him had turned out. Not well, she supposed, if his sudden appearance at Jake’s was any indication. She was pretty sure Roger had skipped out of work early, and the dark scowl on his face seemed fairly indicative of his mood.

  He seemed to be looking for someone. April lifted her arm and hailed him, but he didn’t see her and moments later he melted into the crowd and disappeared.

  She sighed and turned back to Rob. She would have liked to continue their conversation. She sensed that Rob was trying to tell her something, but the moment slipped away. Her mind was too crowded with terrible thoughts, which she yearned to shove away altogether. Jesse, she thought with a pang. What was he doing carrying a gun?

  “April?”

  His voice sent a shiver down her spine. She didn’t have to look up or trust her ears. She knew it was Jesse. He’d entered Jake’s through the side entrance and had materialized behind her left shoulder.

  “Go away,” she commanded.

  There was a moment of explosive silence. April could almost feel the emotion radiating from him in waves, but she wasn’t about to turn around. Some self-protective sixth sense warned her to cut him out of her life now. She’d been safe these past ten years. She didn’t want that to change.

  “I’ve got a few things to say to you. And then I’ll leave.”

  His breath actually swept across her neck. April’s skin quivered. A dozen smart remarks entered her mind, but she managed a civil, “You want to talk here?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “Let’s go outside.”

  She didn’t wait for his response. She bent down and said into Rob’s ear, “See you later. I’ve got to get home,” then she fought her way through the bodies to the front door.

  Outside, icy spring rain carried by a fresh wind whooshed against her, flattening her clothes. She shivered violently, then actually gasped when she felt Jesse’s leather jacket dropped carelessly over her shoulders. Her startled eyes met his disturbing ones, but she hurriedly glanced away. His shoulder holster was as plain as day.

  “I’m not a complete criminal,” he remarked as he undid his holster and slipped the gun into his pocket.

  “You do a wonderful impression.” The jacket’s lining was smooth and sleek, not fleece this time.

  “I’m just involved in something that requires me to carry a gun.”

  “Really. I thought carrying a concealed weapon was against the law. What if you’d been caught in Jake’s wearing a gun?”

  “I would have had a lot of explaining to do.”

  She met his gaze stonily, swamped by emotions that left her feeling angry and off balance. His matter-of-factness was as maddening now as it had been when she was an eighteen-year-old lovesick fool.

  Jesse regarded her impassively. Then he sighed and raked his hand through his hair.

  “Is your car here?” he asked.

  “No, I left it at the store. I walked.”

  He nodded. “Want me to walk you back?”

  April uttered a sound of disbelief. “Sure. Why not? You got a gun. I’ll be safe, won’t I?”

  “Sarcasm doesn’t really suit you, you know,” he said, falling into step beside her. The rain darkened his T-shirt and wet his muscled arms, but he didn’t seem to notice.

  “Like it suits you, you mean?” She made a show of glancing around. “What, no motorcycle?”

  His smile was a gleam of white in the misty night. “I left it at the store.”

  She wished she wasn’t wearing his jacket. It smelled like Jesse, and the nostalgia that assailed her left her tongue-tied and vulnerable. They walked in silence for several blocks. Out of the corner of her eye April saw the rain dampen his blond hair and catch on his eyelashes.

  The parking lot beneath Hollis’s was for employees only. Jesse followed April down the concrete ramp to the silver BMW parked in a slot marked Manager. She fumbled through her purse for her keys.

  “Was there something else you wanted to say?” she asked tightly, resenting him and the feelings he engendered, all of which seemed to pulse beneath her skin.

  “I didn’t want to see you again.”

  His tone was flat and serious. April covered her pain with a short laugh. “Well, the feeling’s mutual.” She slid her arms from the silken sleeves of the black jacket and held it out to him.

  He studied her closely as he took the jacket from her outstretched hands. “You’re beautiful.”

  It had never been easy for April to accept compliments; from Jesse it was impossible. “It’s the clothes,” she said lightly. “And the jewelry. Earrings by Bettina, you know.” She paused. “What are you?”

  “Come out somewhere and have a drink with me,” he invited suddenly, the words so swift and low that she wondered if he regretted them as soon as they were spoken. But he didn’t rescind the invitation.

  “I’m sorry, I have to get back. There’s someone waiting for me.”

  He actually flinched. “Oh.”

  “My daughter,” she heard herself explai
n.

  This was dangerous territory, but April hadn’t been able to stop herself. It just burst out. A small, angry ember of his betrayal still burned brightly, and she wanted to hurt him somehow.

  “Your daughter?” He sounded stunned. “You’re married?”

  April couldn’t answer immediately. She didn’t trust herself to lie. What sweet irony! “No. He’s dead. He died in the service,” she embellished. “Not in combat. One of those freak accidents during maneuvers. We were married a very short time.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “How could you?” She hid her bitterness behind a sardonic smile.

  He shook his head and started to back away. “Another time, then. I’ll see you.”

  He shoved his arms into the jacket and walked back up the concrete ramp. April’s chest hurt. She unlocked the BMW and slid into the driver’s seat, holding her breath. In her rearview mirror she watched him until he was just a memory.

  As soon as she walked into the Old Portland-style home she shared with Eden, she regretted leaving Jesse. The house was cool and still. Without her daughter’s laughter and running feet, it was a lonely place indeed.

  April searched through the refrigerator, found lamentably empty, and settled for a glass of wine instead. She should have taken Jesse up on his invitation, she decided. Being with him was better than being alone.

  She sipped reflectively, listening to the ticking of the grandfather clock in the front hall. When her glass was empty and she felt the warm glow of the wine, she rested her chin on one hand and stared across the elegant dining room. Was there anything lonelier than eating by oneself? The urge to call Eden was so powerful that she actually bounded to her feet. She grabbed her cell phone and texted her as she walked quickly out the French doors to the balcony. Knowing that Eden would be too busy to want to talk to her, she wrote: How’s my little leprechaun? Hope you’re having fun.

  The rain had stopped, but the wind blew hard and cold. April could only stand it for a few minutes before she let herself back inside, but by that time she was in control of her emotions again.