B008DKAYYQ EBOK

by Joyce Lamb

  He sure as hell had never experienced anything like that. It made him want more. No, not just more. He wanted everything.

  He wanted her looking into his eyes and unable to tear her gaze away.

  He wanted her breathless, speechless, mindless.

  He wanted her thinking that she was falling in love with him.

  “Damn it,” he said under his breath and shoved back from his desk. He wasn’t going to let her call all the shots. He was half of this equation, and he had some shots of his own to call.

  In the photo department, he settled his hands on the back of Bailey’s empty chair. Except for some pictures of trees and cars scattered across the surface, he noted that her work area was the most organized in the department, which didn’t surprise him. She was far too focused on tidiness. Perhaps if she had a better tolerance for life’s messiness, she wouldn’t be so bottled up.

  He was heading to the photo-editing area when he heard A.J.’s voice coming from that direction and paused. She rounded the corner talking.

  “I guess it’s a good thing you didn’t take the film to the cops first. Which I would have suggested had you given me time to think about—” She broke off when she spotted Cole.

  Bailey, studying a photo clasped in her hand, was right behind A.J. and didn’t notice that her friend had stopped in mid-sentence. “All they’re doing is standing there. It’s probably nothing.”

  “Hi, Cole,” A.J. said.

  Bailey raised her head and froze when her gaze fixed on his. Before he could get a read on her expression, A.J. said, “Good timing. We could use another opinion.”

  Slipping the photo from Bailey’s fingers, A.J. handed it to Cole. “Bailey has come into possession of an interesting picture. Looks to me like Kendall Falls’ finest might be up to no good.”

  Bailey shifted her focus to A.J. “We don’t know that.”

  A.J. sighed. “I’m thinking the bastard who’s attacked you twice is a pretty good indication that whatever’s going on in this picture is not innocent.” Then she turned to Cole. “What do you think?”

  “Back up a minute,” he said. “Why do you think it’s related to the attacks?”

  “The guy last night asked her where the film was.”

  Cole released an exasperated groan as he cut his gaze to Bailey. “So naturally you had it developed to try to figure out yourself what he was after instead of just turning it over to the police.”

  If the look Bailey shot him had been bullets, he would have been bending backward in a Matrix-like attempt to avoid being tagged. “And I’m supposed to believe that that’s what you would have done?”

  A.J. made a T with her hands. “Could we take a time out and talk about the photo?”

  Cole clenched his jaw and turned his attention to the picture, which Bailey had enlarged. Two uniformed police officers stood casually among several pine trees, hands braced behind their backs, feet spread. They faced another man in denim shorts and a pale blue T-shirt, his back to the camera. All three looked relaxed. One of the cops was even smiling.

  “What’s suspicious about it?” Cole asked.

  “That’s what I said,” Bailey replied.

  “Where’d it come from?” he asked.

  “Austin took it last week when we were playing with an old camera at the park.” She sat on the edge of her desk. “Makes sense that he would snap a shot of police officers. He’s a kid. Cops and robbers fascinate him.”

  “We should turn it over to the FBI,” A.J. said. “The guy who’s after you asked specifically about pictures taken at the park. We’ve looked at them all, and this is what we’ve got. There’s got to be something incriminating about it, and we just don’t see it because we don’t know what we’re looking for.”

  Cole nodded. “I agree. I’ve got a contact at the local bureau. We went to college together.”

  Bailey picked up a pen and started fiddling with it. “Seems you have college friends all over the place.”

  Cole ignored her as he studied the printout. “If something shady is going on here and a cop came after you, it could bring down some important people.”

  Tossing the pen aside, Bailey hopped off the desk. “Not bad for a six-year-old’s first shot at photojournalism.”

  Cole chuckled. “The picture’s even in focus.” He glanced up at Bailey with a wry grin. “Maybe you could learn something from him.”

  A.J. laughed in disbelief, and Bailey stared at him in shock.

  “What?” he said. “I was kidding.”

  “You’re such a blockhead, Goodman,” A.J. said, heading for the door. “Much as I’d love to stick around to watch the bloodshed, I’m late for an interview. Let me know how it goes with the feds.”

  Alone with Bailey, Cole pocketed his hands. “I was kidding. You’re a fantastic photographer.”

  She waved a dismissive hand. “Forget it.”

  “You’re the best this paper’s got. I’ve always thought so. I just said that to get a rise out of you.”

  To his relief, she laughed. “If you backpedal any faster, you’re going to leave a Cole-shaped hole in the wall.”

  He grinned. “Kind of like the Road Runner, huh?”

  “If you make that meep-meep sound, I’m going to be creeped out.”

  “I try to keep my meep-meeping to a minimum.” He gestured toward the door. “Shall we drop in for a visit at our local FBI office?”

  “Both of us?”

  “You are the keeper of the possibly incriminating photo.” He checked his watch. “And you’re not on duty for a while yet.”

  She seemed to be trying to think of a way to dodge him but apparently came up empty, because she began gathering up the photos and negatives littering her desk.

  * * *

  In Cole’s SUV, Bailey watched the passing scenery. Vibrant flowers in orange and magenta dotted the landscape, looking as if the earlier rain had perked them up.

  She wondered whether Cole knew they were being followed by her driver/bodyguard. If he did, he didn’t mention it.

  They’d been on the road for fifteen minutes and hadn’t said a word. Which was fine with her. The less she had to talk to him, the better. It was bad enough she had to focus to keep from letting his fresh rain scent waft its way into her senses. She’d already had to come up with a song to sing in her head every time her brain veered into the memory of his kiss. Unfortunately, “George, George, George of the jungle, watch out for those … lips!” wasn’t doing the trick anymore.

  Closing her eyes, she wondered what a photo of cops and a civilian in a park together could have to do with her brother. If the police had indeed been caught in the act of some misdeed and they or the man they were with had been trying to stop her from turning the photo over to federal authorities … why would they be so interested in how killing her would affect James? It didn’t make sense.

  “The tense silence is getting to me,” Cole said.

  She jolted at the sound of his voice but didn’t look at him. She didn’t need to to know exactly how he looked. Dark hair, kind eyes behind dark sunglasses, angular chin shadowed with a light beard. Very kissable lips … “Then say something,” she said.

  “I just did.”

  “Okay then.” She hated how bitchy she sounded, but she couldn’t help it. She had enough going on without having to deal with his reporter’s nose for news.

  He sighed. “Can we call a truce?”

  “Sure. Do you want me to sign something?”

  “Somehow I have a feeling it would last as long as a Mideast peace plan,” he said.

  “That’s insulting.”

  “Seems that everything I say to you is.”

  “Then perhaps you should adjust your approach.”

  He braked for a stoplight. “Why don’t you give me a hint about what approach would work? Every approach I’ve tried has just pissed you off.”

  “I think I have a right to be annoyed at your investigation of my past.”

  “I can
’t take it back, Bailey. If I could, I would.” The light turned green, and he hit the gas with more force than necessary. “And if I could kick Daniel’s ass again, I would,” he muttered.

  She looked at him just as he flexed the hand with raw knuckles on the steering wheel. Her stomach gave an ominous flutter. “You kicked Daniel’s ass?”

  He shrugged. “I wouldn’t call it a flat-out ass-kicking. More of a mouth punching.”

  Her heart skipped. “Why?”

  He cast her an impatient glance. “Why do you think?”

  She didn’t know what to say. She hated violence. Hated it. But the thought of Cole Goodman taking down Daniel on her behalf … no, it didn’t please her, she thought in defiance of the “take that” satisfaction that rolled through her. But it did … baffle her. “Why would you do that, though? He’s your friend.”

  He snorted. “Not anymore.”

  “You’ve known him a lot longer than you’ve known me. Why would you believe me over him?”

  “I didn’t believe you over him. You didn’t tell me anything, and all he did was lie.”

  She sighed, reminded of his incessant nosiness. “I don’t understand why you couldn’t just drop it.”

  “You don’t know me very well.”

  She felt a twinge of regret that perhaps she would never know him well. “Then I guess we’re even.”

  He turned on the radio, and relieved, Bailey concentrated on the old Madonna tune, thankful to have something else to focus on.

  But then he reached over and shut it off again. “I have one question, and then I’ll never mention it again.”

  She bit back a weary groan. “Can I get that in writing?”

  “Now who’s being insulting?”

  “You know you’re pushing your luck, right?”

  “I’m willing to push it.”

  “Is that how you got shot?”

  He tapped the brakes a little too hard, and she mentally checked “turn the tables on Cole Goodman” off her to-do list.

  “That’s not—”

  “If you say it’s none of my business,” she cut in, “you’ll only look like a hypocrite.”

  He stared out the windshield at yet another red traffic light, his mouth set in a grim line. She thought he wasn’t going to respond, and that was fine with her. Really, it was.

  But then he said, “I refused to give up on someone I cared about, and I earned a bullet in the back for it.”

  A surge of horror turned her stomach. “Oh, God. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  “Hey, I owe you one, right?”

  She stiffened all over again. Holy crap, this man was a piece of work. “You telling me something voluntarily is not the same as going behind my back. You’re not evening the score here.”

  “So that’s what we’re doing. Keeping score.”

  She groaned in frustration. “Fine. Tell me your story. Get it off your chest. Spill your guts. Whatever you want to call it. Do you want me to take notes?”

  “You’d make a lousy shrink, Chase.”

  “Turns out my rates are the lowest you’ll find, so quit complaining and get it over with.”

  “Geez, the gentle prodding is breaking down my barriers one by one. I don’t think I can resist for much longer.”

  She bit into her bottom lip to stop her next snarky retort. She would have to learn how to disable the buttons he knew to push. “Are we almost there?”

  He grinned askance at her. “You mean you’re not enjoying our banter?”

  “You’re too much work, Goodman.”

  “Oh, yeah, that’s right. Your type is the pretty but dumb guy.”

  She winced at the reference to Daniel. “You’re doing a good job of being dumb right now.”

  “Why? Because I’m challenging you?”

  “If you think ‘challenging’ and ‘annoying’ mean the same thing, yeah, you’re challenging me big-time.”

  “Why do I annoy you so much? You have a reputation for being easygoing and laidback. Yet, I get anywhere near you, and you’re one big prickly—” He broke off and pressed his lips together.

  “Bitch? Is that what I am? One big prickly bitch?”

  He rolled his eyes in disgust. “Kind of, yeah. Seems I bring that out in you. All because of who my friends are … were.”

  He sounded so sad that tears unexpectedly stung her eyes. She turned her head to look out the window so he wouldn’t see. He was right. God, he was right. She was punishing him for knowing Daniel. Doing to him exactly what he’d done to her before her mugging had thrown them together. Talk about looking like a hypocrite.

  She clenched her jaw against the regret and frustration. She didn’t need this, damn it. Not right now. She had much bigger problems. “Can we go back to the tense silence?”

  He answered by reaching over and flipping the radio back on.

  Chapter 30

  As James Chase stared out at the water, he sifted the fine white sand of Kendall Falls Beach through his fingers.

  A year ago, he’d been filled with hope. He’d done his time, but he still carried the overwhelming guilt. He always would. He’d killed his father, after all. Almost killed his sister.

  But a year ago the future had still looked reasonably promising. He’d been looking forward to getting to know his son. He’d even had a career plan.

  And then it had all fallen apart.

  How quickly it happened still shook him.

  One lie on a job application.

  Have you ever been convicted of a felony?

  He’d placed his X in the box labeled “no.” And sealed his fate.

  He wondered what would have happened if he’d been honest. Maybe the company would have simply asked what had happened. He could have told them, and that would have been the end of it. It wasn’t as if they would have to worry that he might commit involuntary manslaughter against the company.

  Perhaps he still would have gotten the job. He would have been able to settle his debt with the loan shark. He wouldn’t have had to go to Payne Kincaid for money. And he wouldn’t have pissed Kincaid off for the last time.

  Focusing on a fishing boat in the distance, James wondered what the hell he was going to do now.

  Kincaid was determined to force him out of town. To protect Austin and Bailey.

  If he was totally honest with himself, he couldn’t very well blame the man. On the outside looking in, James was the kind of guy who would never learn from his mistakes. He was destined to make them over and over again, dragging down anyone who was foolish enough to count on him. Such as Bailey and Austin.

  But James couldn’t imagine his life without them. What would he do? Where would he go?

  He was too selfish to walk away, too frightened of what his life would be like.

  Empty.

  Intolerably empty.

  He’d have no reason to live, and reasons to live were all that had gotten him through prison. And those reasons were Austin and Bailey.

  He knew what he had to do. It would change everything. He would probably lose custody of Austin again, but he would still be able to see him. There really was no alternative.

  He had to go to the feds.

  Chapter 31

  As the statuesque redhead in the tailored navy suit hugged Cole tight, Bailey had to look away. The intense wave of the jealousy stunned her.

  Before she could do much more than wonder where the hell it had come from, Cole turned to her. “Bailey Chase, this is FBI Special Agent Kathleen Quinn.”

  The woman extended a manicured hand, her dark brown eyes friendly. “Hello, Bailey. Nice to meet you.”

  Bailey plastered a pleasant expression on her face. “Nice to meet you, too.” As they shook hands, she realized she’d seen this woman before. Where? Then she remembered the photos on Cole’s wall, his arm casually looped over her shoulders in the photo that also contained Daniel.

  “Kathleen and I went to college together,” Cole said.

  Kathlee
n gave a low, husky laugh. “That’s not all we did.”

  Bailey felt as though a thirty-pound cat had just plopped down on her chest. Oh, God, she shouldn’t be feeling this way. Not about Cole. He was nosy. And pushy. And maddening. And way too much work.

  Kathleen turned eyes that sparkled back to him. “Let’s go to my office.”

  As the agent led the way, Bailey fell in step beside Cole, the envelope of negatives and the enlarged photo from Austin’s camera clasped in one hand. She noticed that Cole’s gaze rested ever-so-briefly on the FBI agent’s backside before he glanced sideways at her and smiled.

  She told herself he could check out any butt he wanted to. She’d told him to bug off. And she wasn’t interested.

  Kathleen escorted them into a tiny office with sparse furnishings and a small window, its view blocked by a leafy green bush. The air was warm and close, and got closer still when Kathleen shut the door and gestured at the two no-nonsense chairs facing the desk.

  “Have a seat,” she said as she settled onto the creaky wooden chair behind the gray metal desk.

  With her long, curling hair, classically feminine features, expert makeup, snug-fitting skirt and jacket, she seemed out of place in the drab, airless office. She looked more like an actress who played an FBI agent on TV than an actual agent.

  “Are those the photos?” Kathleen asked.

  Bailey blinked and hoped to hell she hadn’t been staring … or scowling. “Yes.” She handed over the envelope. “I appreciate you taking the time to see us on such short notice.”

  Kathleen smiled at Cole. “That’s what friends are for. Right, Cole?”

  Did the woman have a twitch in her eye or had she just winked at him?

  Bailey forced herself to sit back and relax her shoulders, determined to be an adult. Adults didn’t lunge across desks and yank out the perfect hair of the competition. Besides, Kathleen Quinn was not the competition, because there was no contest.

  Bailey rubbed her forehead in frustration. What the hell was wrong with her?

  Kathleen eased the enlarged photo out of the envelope, her forehead furrowing as she studied it.

  Cole walked around the desk to stand beside her so he could see the photo, too. “The two officers are recognizable,” he said. “That will make it easy to ID them. The other guy, though, could be tough.”