by Tina Susedik
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why the hell would I do that?”
Cassie fingered through the bills on her desk. As far as she could tell, nothing was missing, but she knew Tony, or thought she did. When he was lying his voice rose an octave and right now he was singing like a soprano. “I don’t know. Why would you?”
“Just find them.”
When the line went dead, she slammed down the receiver. Damn man. Cassie shook off Tony’s call. She needed to get ready to go to Hogan’s for supper. Hopefully it would include spending the weekend.
Hogan threw his keys on the counter.
“Dammit!” He took off his jacket and tossed it over the back of a kitchen chair, grabbed a bottle of beer from the fridge, and chugged down the brew to wash away the taste of his meeting with his boss.
“Dammit all to hell!” He dropped the empty bottle in the recycling bin, loosened his tie, and flung himself down on the couch. He closed his eyes, the memory of the discussion with his boss, Agent Kent, spiraling through his mind. Evidently the agency wasn’t happy with the lack of information he’d received from his time with Cassie over the weekend. Evidently her not knowing anything about her ex wasn’t good enough.
“Wynnters, your progress with the perp is disappointing.”
Hogan ran his fingers through his hair. “She is not a perp in this investigation. When will you guys understand that? We’ve been through her phone records, bank records, hell, even her dental records and have found nothing to put her in the middle of this. I didn’t learn anything this weekend except she and Angelino didn’t have the same tastes in antiques.”
“Why was she seen with him in an alley? Why was her ex seen going into her house over the weekend, if she isn’t part of the smuggling?”
Hogan swore under his breath and unclenched his fists. “Why wasn’t I told she’d met with him or that he was at her house?”
“Seeing as he had a key, we couldn’t stop and charge him and the guy with him for breaking and entering.” Kent sent him a penetrating look. “If you hadn’t been with Miss Jordan all weekend, we’d have thought they were having a meeting with her. As it is, we don’t know if they left her a message or package.”
“Did they have anything with them when they left?”
“Not that we could tell.”
“Who was the other guy?”
“We’re still investigating that, but he must have some tie to Miss Jordan. They both seemed familiar with the place.”
Hogan ran a hand through his hair. Could he have been misled by her? Did she know who he was and was playing him?
“She’s playing you, Wynnters,” his boss said, as if reading his mind.
Memories of their weekend together rushed through his mind. The way her lips parted when she came. The way her eyes softened when she spotted the bed. The way she got lost everywhere they went, including the antique shops.
“I don’t buy it.”
“Well, that’s too bad. We received word of a couple grand going into her checking account yesterday. We’re tracking it now. I’m getting a search warrant for her house. We should have everything in place to go in on Monday.”
When Hogan opened his mouth to argue once more, his boss poked a finger in his chest.
“If you can’t handle this, Wynnters, I’ll put someone on the case who can. You’ve become blinded by her. I’ll say it again, she’s in on the stolen antiquities. Just say the word and I’ll have you replaced.”
“No. No, I’ll be fine.” Somehow he’d figure out how to keep her from being home when they went to her house.
“You’re dismissed, Wynnters,” Kent said, then held up his hand when an agent handed him a folder. “We have the identity of man with Angelino.” He handed the folder to Hogan.
“Shit.” He recognized the name, if not the face. Could things get any worse? Now her job, or past job, was connected with Angelino.
Hogan opened his eyes. Enough re-thinking the meeting. He had just enough time to make supper before Cassie came over. How the hell was he going to get through the weekend and not show his hand? How the hell was he going to keep from questioning her? He didn’t have much choice. He’d simply steel his heart. After all, that was what he was trained for.
Cassie set down her fork and refrained from licking her plate clean. “That was simply incredible.” True to his word, he served his “famous” lasagna and garlic bread. Cassie thought if he ever needed to change careers from being a salesman, he could easily become a chef.
“And the garlic bread is out of the world.” The creases in his forehead and silence were beginning to worry her. The conversation during the meal had been mostly one-sided. When she told him about buying the bed, his frown became even more pronounced. Something was definitely bothering him.
“And this morning a five-legged dog showed up at my house and asked for directions to the mall.”
Even though his eyes were on her, Cassie had the feeling he wasn’t seeing her.
“Is something wrong?” she asked, placing her hand on his.
Like a light being switched on, his face went from blank to full attention.
“No.” He picked up his wineglass. “Just a bad week at work.”
Hogan knew he needed to get a grip. Cassie’s house was being watched, but the only thing one of the agents reported was a large bed being delivered. Was it the one they saw over the weekend? How could she afford to buy the bed? She didn’t have a job. Except for the mysterious money added to her account, her finances weren’t anything to write home about. Where did she get the money? His boss couldn’t be right about her.
As bad as it might seem in the end, if this was to be their last weekend together, he was going to make it a memorable one.
“You seemed surprised at my culinary skills, my dear.” He hoped to bring things back to a lighter note. “After this past weekend, I’d think you’d have a good idea I can cook.”
Cassie’s smile put a crack in the steel surrounding his heart. “Well, your mother had the cabin fully stocked for cooking. While you have”—she swept her hand toward his sparsely equipped kitchen—”from what I can tell, not much.”
“I’ve learned to improvise.”
“Oh, yeah?” She raised an eyebrow at him. “Two forks. Two plates. One pot. A blender. Some spices.”
“Are you teasing me, woman?” The crack got wider at her laughter.
“Maybe you have other, hidden tools?” She ran her tongue over her lips.
Hogan’s cock twitched. His eyes moved from the island back to her hers. “You wanna see?”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Oh, yes, I would.” He stood. She rose and pressed her backside against the island. Capturing both of her hands in his, he undid the buttons on her blouse with the other. “Ever have sex on a countertop?”
“No.”
“Well, be prepared to be impressed by my stuffing skills.”
And she was.
Later that night, snuggling naked under blankets on the couch, they watched a movie that was doing a poor job of holding Hogan’s attention. With her backside spooning against his front, one of his hands palmed her breast, while the other was free to roam over her soft skin. He needed to get his libido under control and figure out a way to ask her where the money for the bed came from.
“What are your plans for the week?” he asked, running his fingers through her hair.
“I’ll start looking for another job on Monday,” she answered. “I worked on a new resume this week.”
“How soon do you need to get another job?”
“I’ll be okay for a while.”
“Since you don’t have a job, I’m surprised you bought the bed.” He eased his tense muscles, waiting for her answer. He was surpri
sed when she giggled.
“I probably shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t resist. Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve dreamed of a curtained, four-poster bed. When I told my mom about it, she agreed I should use some of the money Grandma left me.”
Hogan released the breath he held. “Your grandmother left you money?”
“Yeah. Her will stipulated that the money was to be used for enjoyment, not for bills.” Cassie wiggled her ass against his crotch. “I’m sure I’ll get plenty of enjoyment from it, too. Grandma would be happy.”
Hogan believed her answer was plausible. He’d pass the information on to his boss, but didn’t know if they could get a warrant to probe into her grandmother’s accounts before Monday.
“So, what type of job are you interested in?”
She shrugged, her breasts pressing against his forearm. “Probably something similar to what I was doing.”
A gunshot rang out on the television screen, making them both jump.
“How about starting your own business?”
“Me? What kind of business?”
“You enjoy computers and love antiques,” he commented. “Why not combine the two? Buy and sell antiques online.”
“I don’t know all that much about antiques. I only have the things Grandma left me. Loving antiques and knowing about them are two different things. Besides, I wouldn’t know where to start.”
Hogan smiled into her hair. If she was part of Angelino’s group of thieves, she’d know more about this line of business. “Didn’t you set up and organize the branch office at your job? Take what you know and apply it to yourself.”
Lights from the TV flickered against his closed eyelids. What was she thinking?
“I don’t know, Hogan. It’s rather a scary step. On the one hand, working for myself sounds great. No boss. No snarky co-workers like that bastard, Richard. I could set my own hours. But. . .”
“No paycheck. No insurance. You have to work whether you’re sick or not. No paid vacation.”
Cassie’s sigh said it all. “That about sums it up. I think I’ll see what jobs are out there before I take such a drastic step. I’ll run a few ideas past Jill on Monday.”
“You’re having lunch with Jill?”
“She’s taking the afternoon off. I’m running some errands first, then meeting her.”
Hogan mulled over this piece of information and wondered when her house would be searched. If it was while she was gone, he wouldn’t have to be the one to hand her the warrant. Then again, if she were home, maybe he’d have a chance to explain what was going on. Either way, he was screwed.
“Can I spend the night?” Cassie asked, interrupting his thoughts.
Hogan thought for a minute. As much as he wanted to spend more time with her, he needed to put some space between them. “Sure, but I need to go to my folks’ place in the morning. I won’t be back until late Sunday night.”
Chapter 18
The next morning, Cassie sipped her tea while waiting for Hogan to come from the shower. She wandered around the living room, taking in what must be family photos placed on the fireplace mantle, bookcase shelves, and end tables.
Picking up one photo, she stared at an elderly man reminding her of Hogan. If this was an ancestor, Hogan’s good looks were going to carry him well into old age. Her body tingled at the thought. Before setting the picture back down, she noticed a folded card lying on the shelf. ‘In Remembrance’ was printed on the front. A funeral card. She opened it up. “QJA Wynnters III.” Why did the name sound familiar?
“My grandfather.” Hogan came up behind her.
“You resemble him.” The scent of Hogan’s aftershave, combined with his leather jacket, sent her senses reeling. She wished she didn’t have to leave.
“That’s what people keep telling me.” He took the card and put back on the shelf. “He was ninety years old. The old coot.”
Cassie heard the affection in Hogan’s voice. “Nice guy?”
Hogan chuckled. “Hell, no. He was a real bastard.”
Cassie recalled where she’d seen the name before, in one of the folders at work. “What did he do for a living?”
Hogan frowned. “I never really paid any attention. Being the youngest in my family, I was too busy playing, but I recall hearing something about houses and condos.”
Cassie’s heart dropped. With the unusual spelling of the last name, his grandfather had to have been the one to tear down her old neighborhood for condos.
Before she was able to ask him more, Hogan walked to the front door. “Enough about the old guy.” Hogan helped Cassie with her coat, picked up a duffel bag, and opened the door.
“I wish I didn’t have to go, but one doesn’t miss Pops’ birthday. I’d rather spend the weekend with you.”
“Me, too.”
They walked to her car where Hogan set the bag on the roof. He cupped her cheeks.
“Here’s one so you won’t forget me.”
His kiss momentarily made her forget her own name, but forget him? Not hardly. Lucky she was leaning against the car, or she would have fallen when he broke the kiss and released her.
Hogan opened her car.
“Drive safe.” Cassie watched him standing in his driveway, gave him a small wave, and wondered how she was going to get through the weekend alone.
Cassie set her book on the restaurant table as Jill waltzed across the café on Monday. She stood and gave her friend a hug.
“Hey, girl, you’re looking pretty good,” Jill said in a surprised voice. The women sat down. “I expected you to be all red-eyed and angrier than hell.”
Cassie toyed with her napkin. “I was for a few days, but I put my big-girl panties on and decided my quitting could be a good thing.”
The waitress interrupted and took their orders.
“How so?” Jill asked, sipping on her hot chocolate.
Cassie couldn’t hold back a grin. “It gave me time to spend with Hogan.”
“Really?”
“Yep, really. He took me to his family’s cabin in Door County for a few days.”
“His family has a cabin?”
“Well, not really a cabin, more like a cabin turned into this huge house.”
“Not surprising, considering. . .”
Their conversation was interrupted when the waitress delivered their food. As they settled into their meal, Cassie forgot what they were talking about.
“So give me the scoop on what’s happening at work.”
Jill waved a fry in the air. “You wouldn’t believe how bad things are, and it’s only been a week since you left. I really and truly hate it there. I hate Richard even more. Without even consulting me, Peters agreed with Richard that I should go to the new office with him. Richard is such a tyrant. A self-centered, egotistical, male chauvinist, sex-craved tyrant.”
“Geez, got an opinion on the man, Jill?” Cassie asked, laughing.
“I’m serious, Cassie. I can’t stand him. Everyone in the office thought you were nuts to quit. They figured maybe you had a chance to get promoted once the big guys found out they’d made a mistake in hiring Richard. Now they realize what a smart move your leaving was. For you, anyway.”
Jill took a deep breath before taking a long drink of her cola. “The way people are feeling right now, there is going to be a mass exodus.”
Cassie was silent for a moment. “Do you think you would quit?”
“I don’t know. Unless something else comes up, I don’t have any choice but to stay. Brad and I are talking about getting married next year, and we’ll need the money.” Jill squirted ketchup on her plate. “Enough about me. Besides boinking Hogan, what else have you been up to?”
“Attempting to figure out what to do next with my life. Tr
ying to keep Tony out of my hair.”
“Tony? What’s that jackass doing now?”
“Been calling, asking for some papers and other junk he thinks I have. I have no idea what he’s talking about. Anyway, he’s the least of my worries. I need to find a job.”
“Any ideas?”
“I’m applying at different places this week. Hogan thinks I should start my own business.”
“Doing what?”
“Selling antiques on line.”
A frown creased Jill’s forehead. “Do you even know anything about antiques? I know Tony’s family works with them, but I didn’t realize you did, too.”
“I don’t. I’m not sure where Hogan got the idea.” Cassie caught the waitress’s eye for more tea. “I don’t think it’s such a good idea. I rather like the idea of a steady paycheck, insurance, and all that good stuff.”
“With your experience, you shouldn’t have any problem getting a new job. And if things work out with you and Hogan, you probably wouldn’t have to work again.”
Cassie paused, her cup halfway to her mouth. “What do you mean?”
“You know. He and his family being rich and all.”
“Rich?”
“Well, yeah. His family owns a couple of plastics companies. I thought you knew that.”
Setting down her cup with a thud. Her heart sank, and her coffee rose to the back of her throat. “Why hasn’t this come up before?”
Jill’s face turned red. “After your experience with Tony and his family and all your talk about never wanting to be with a man who had money, we decided to let you get to know Hogan before you found out he was rich. All you talked about was how you wanted an average man.”
Cassie sat back in the booth. “But why didn’t he tell me? He said he was a salesman. He drives an old Bronco, wears flannel shirts.” She thought about his family’s “cabin.” Damn.