by B. J Daniels
“Did you get enough to eat?” he asked. She could only nod, her throat tightening as she felt tears burn her eyes. “I’ve never met a woman who eats like you do.”
JJ glanced over at him and bristled. “Your point?”
“I love a woman with a healthy appetite.”
“Really? While you didn’t even finish yours.”
He shrugged. “I don’t have your appetite.”
“That explains a lot,” she said, realizing that he was trying to lighten her mood. “Like how you live by yourself in that cabin way up in the woods.”
When his gaze locked with hers, amusement played in his challenging look. “You aren’t equating food with something else, are you, Ms. Foster?”
She lowered her voice. “I didn’t think you’d want to talk about your...lack of sexual appetite out here, do you?”
“In broad daylight you mean?” he whispered as he leaned toward her. “I like a woman with a good appetite—in all things.”
She raised a brow. “You sure about that? I suspect it’s been a long time.”
He grinned. “You like giving me a hard time, don’t you?”
“Me? I haven’t tied you up yet or bound you to a tree.”
He chuckled. “With luck you won’t get the chance. And by the way, I have a perfectly fine appetite. In all things, as well.” His gaze held hers for a heat-seeking moment before he gathered up their trash.
“Maybe someday you’ll have to prove it to me.”
He stopped what he was doing to look at her. “Be careful what you wish for.” There was a glint in his gray eyes that could have been desire. Or a warning. Whatever it had been, it sent a shiver through her.
Thorn rose to walk over to the container, where he disposed of their trash. She rose on wobbly legs. She’d been joking at first, but at what point had it turned to flirting with the cowboy? She was playing with fire and they both knew it.
But, she realized, she wasn’t the same woman who’d gone to bed in Geneva Davenport’s house Friday night. The events that followed had released something in her she’d kept caged while she worked to pay off her father’s medical bills.
Almost dying had made her want to live. And now she felt a freedom that both excited and scared her. She felt as if she wasn’t sure what she might do next. And then there was this handsome cowboy...
But when he spoke, he steered clear of their earlier flirting. “I know you’re the key to finding Geneva,” he said as they walked back to where he’d parked the bike, getting back to business. “Would you say she’s a creature of habit?”
JJ smiled to herself, a little disappointed and yet just as relieved. For a moment she’d forgotten that she was still in danger—and maybe so was Geneva. She thought about his question for a moment. “Kind of. She knows what she likes, but she likes a lot of different things as well as places.”
“She must have a favorite place in the area where she eats, buys her clothing...”
“You think she’s out shopping?”
“Truthfully, I think anything is possible. She might not know about the plane crash, or Baker being on the loose or that anyone suspects her of being behind the kidnapping.”
JJ climbed on behind him. “Or she could be tied up somewhere in a dark basement.”
“We need to find Baker.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
FRANKLIN PACED, TOO worked up to sit. He couldn’t eat, and he couldn’t sleep. He just wanted his granddaughter back.
“You are going to wear a hole in that floor,” Helen said, not unkindly. “Is there anything I can do?”
He stopped pacing to shake his head. “I’m just glad you’re here. Thank you for staying.”
“Of course. I’m here for you, you know that.”
He stopped pacing to place a hand on the back of her chair. “I just want Geneva back. I want a second chance. I’m not sure I deserve one, though.”
She turned to place her hand over his. “You’re going to get the chance. I’m sure the kidnappers just want the money, and then Geneva will be returned to you unharmed.”
“To God’s ear,” he said as he forced himself to take a seat across from her. Helen had been a godsend. She seemed as anxious as he was to have this over. He suspected it had more to do with Willie than worry about Geneva on her part. He’d seen the tension between the two of them. Earlier, she’d seemed relieved when the judge had left to go for a walk.
He studied the woman for a moment. She was staring out the window with such a look of longing on her pretty face that he had to ask her. “This must be hard on you.”
She seemed surprised as she turned to frown at him. “I’m not the one whose granddaughter is missing.”
Geneva wasn’t just missing, but it was kind of her to put it that way. “Seeing Willie again. I couldn’t help but notice there was something between the two of you.”
She chuckled softly and looked away again. “Like I said, we’re old friends.”
Helen settled her gaze on her hands in her lap for a moment. Her hands showed her age more than her face or her figure. Sometimes Franklin forgot how old he was, how old his closest friends and associates were.
Helen had come to him recently, highly recommended, when his personal lawyer had retired. She’d moved to the area and was looking for part-time employment. When he’d hired her, he’d been worried that she was looking for something more than he had to offer. She wouldn’t be the first woman who’d been interested in him since his wife died. Most of them were more interested in his money than him, so he was gun-shy.
Fortunately, Helen had remained professional. Though he thought if he had been interested, she might have shared that interest. Maybe in time, he’d thought, since he did like and admire her. She was smart and a damned good lawyer.
“I’m guessing you and Willie were more than that—at least for one of you,” he said, curious and surprised that Helen might be the woman who’d broken his friend’s heart all those years ago.
“William and I were in love a very long time ago,” she said after a moment. Tears welled in her eyes as she looked over at him. “I took off on a whim with some friends for a wild weekend in Mexico. I’d had just enough to drink, and one thing led to another. I regretted it immediately. But it was too late. William never forgave me. You know him. He said he could never trust me after that. Soon after that I married and stayed with my husband until his recent death.”
“Has your life been happy?” Franklin asked, fairly sure for all of his success, he couldn’t have said his had been. Successful, rewarding, fulfilling, but happy?
Helen chuckled. “Happy? My husband did an adequate job of supporting us. I was able to go to law school. It occupied my time.”
“You never had children?”
Her eyes dimmed for a moment. “My husband was unable to have children and he didn’t want to adopt. Now, of course I have second thoughts, but doesn’t everyone, even those who had children.”
Franklin let out a laugh at the truth in her words. “I loved my daughter more than life, and yet there was nothing I could do to save her from herself. And now Geneva...”
* * *
THORN FOLLOWED THE directions Wes Brennan’s wife had given them. Like JJ, he hated that the woman would soon be learning not just of her husband’s death, but of his involvement in a kidnapping. Which proved that you never really knew another person—even one you’re married to. He’d certainly learned that lesson, hadn’t he?
Johnny Baker apparently lived in what had once been a motor court with small cabins—even though the sign on the highway called them condos. He parked in front of unit number 10 and waited for a moment to see if there was any sign of life behind the curtain. There wasn’t. The whole complex looked deserted.
A couple of old cars were parked nearby, but they didn’t look as if they ran. Most everyo
ne, they suspected, would have already left for work.
As he and JJ walked toward number 10, he gently moved her behind him and drew his weapon from under his jacket. Standing to the side of the door away from the window, he knocked. Then knocked harder and then tried the knob. Locked.
Motioning to JJ, Thorn led them around to the back. A large garbage can sat on a small concrete slab next to the back door. He opened the lid and saw that it was half full—everything in it, though, looking as if it had been there for a while.
He knocked, tried the knob, and when it didn’t open, he stepped back and kicked in the door. The lockset was so flimsy that he figured JJ could have kicked it open. She gave him a surprised look, either impressed or shocked. He couldn’t tell which as he holstered his gun.
It didn’t take long to verify that the place was empty. Just as it didn’t take long to know that Johnny Baker hadn’t been here for some time. As they had at Kyle Spencer’s, they searched.
Thorn was ready to give up when JJ said, “I’m not sure if this is helpful.” She held up a scrap of paper using the hem of her T-shirt. “It looks like there’s a local phone number on it.”
He stepped to her, read off the number and then pulled out his phone. “Could be the girlfriend,” he said as he dialed and put the phone on speaker. It rang, once, twice, three times. He was about to give up when a man answered with a hesitant hello.
“I’m sorry,” Thorn said. “I’m not sure I have the right number.”
“Depends on who you’re calling,” the man said.
“I was calling Johnny Baker?”
A long beat of silence before the man said, “Never heard of him,” and hung up.
Thorn looked at JJ. “Have you heard that voice before?”
She shook her head. He hadn’t either. But as she dropped the scrap of paper back where she found it, he quickly called the judge.
“Can you find out who has this phone number?” he asked without preamble. He rattled it off quickly as he heard a vehicle pull up out front. “I’ll call you back.” He quickly disconnected as a car door opened, and he heard the crunch of gravel as someone headed for the front door of Johnny Baker’s condo.
* * *
JJ BARELY GOT out the back door, with Thorn right behind her, before she heard a woman insert a key into the lock, shove open the door and yell, “Johnny? Damn it, Johnny.” They heard her footfalls moving through the place as Thorn gently closed the back door with the now broken lockset.
They moved around to the front of the development to where they’d left the motorcycle. The woman came running out at the sound of the bike’s motor turning over.
“Hey!” she yelled over the loud engine, and ran over to them. “Have you seen Johnny? Johnny Baker?” It appeared she thought they lived in the complex.
Thorn shut off the motor. “Who?”
“Johnny Baker.” She half turned to motion to the building. “He lives in number 10.”
“Sorry,” Thorn said.
“You seem worried,” JJ said. “When was the last time you saw him?”
“Just a few days ago,” the woman said distractedly. She looked close to tears. “I am worried. He was acting...weird. Stranger than usual,” she added with a humorless laugh.
“Have you called the police?” Thorn asked.
She shook her head. “He wouldn’t like me doing that.” She started to take a step back.
“Is there a message we can give Johnny if we see him?” JJ asked.
The woman hesitated. “Tell him Sherry is looking for him, and she’s scared and mad as hell.” Tears filled her brown eyes, which were ringed with mascara. “I just have a bad feeling, you know? Something bad has happened to him. We had this stupid fight.” She shook her head. “Sorry, you don’t want to hear this shit.”
JJ reached out and touched the woman’s arm. “I’m sorry. I’m sure he’ll turn up.”
Sherry nodded and sniffed. “I’m sure he will, one way or the other, huh.” She turned and walked back to her car.
Thorn started the bike again and they pulled out. As he did, JJ saw a billboard sign across the street. She grabbed his sleeve and pulled it as she yelled into his ear, “I thought of a place Geneva might go.”
* * *
THORN SLOWED AT the turnoff JJ had told him about. “There is this cabin Geneva had me rent for her a few times. I remember one of her friends saying she was going to write a review online about it because it was so perfect. Right on the lake, in the woods, very isolated since apparently Geneva and her crew got very noisy.”
“And she returned there? That is, they let her return?” he’d asked after he’d pulled over down the road earlier so they could talk.
“It runs a thousand dollars a night plus a large deposit for anything that gets broken,” JJ had said. “She’s been there three times.”
“You think you can find the place?”
“I was the one who found the place originally for her and even drew her a map how to get there, since GPS doesn’t work in such a remote area, and emailed it to her. Why don’t I call and see if it’s rented?” She’d looked through her phone until she found the number.
It didn’t take long to find out that her instincts had been right. Once she’d told the property management company her name, the woman was quite happy to help. JJ had quickly found out that on Friday, Geneva had rented the place for a week so should be there until next Thursday.
Now as Thorn followed the narrow twisting dirt road back through the thick tall pines, he felt an inkling of concern even as he told himself that Geneva was probably there with her friends partying this whole time as she waited to collect her ten million dollars.
The cabin, and Thorn used that term loosely, was four thousand square feet of glass and stone at the edge of the water in a stand of pines. The road in was private, so once they pulled off the highway, they didn’t see another person.
“We’re getting close now,” JJ warned him.
He pulled over in a spot between two pines. “I think we should walk from here.” JJ was already off the bike. “Hold up. I think you should wait here.”
“You know I’m not going to do that,” she said, and started up the road.
Well, he’d tried. “Do I have to keep reminding you that this could get even more dangerous?” he asked, catching up to her.
“You make me feel safe,” she said facetiously. At least he thought she was being facetious because she was smiling.
“Keeping you safe is the problem. At least stay behind me, okay?”
They moved through the pines following the road. A few curves later he spotted the lake’s gleaming green surface through the pines. The sight was spectacular. He could see why someone might want to come back here. It was isolated, and along with a huge home with all the amenities, there was this amazing lake.
Thorn slowed as they approached the structure. When he spotted Geneva’s red convertible parked beside it, he looked back at JJ and gave her a thumbs-up.
A set of stone steps curved up from the ground to the first-floor deck. As Thorn started up them with JJ right behind him, he heard a woman scream from inside the house.
Drawing his gun, he rushed to the door only to find it locked. He motioned JJ back as he moved around to the front of the house, knowing that it would be a bank of windows. Whoever was inside would be able to see him—and have a clear shot.
He moved swiftly, getting to one of the French doors and trying the knob. It opened. He pushed inside, leading with his weapon. The huge living room was empty. He heard noise on a lower floor and then silence.
Thorn turned. No JJ. He quickly moved back to the deck where he’d left her. No JJ. Swearing, he stepped to the edge of the deck in time to see three people racing toward a boat parked at the dock. They jumped in and took off before he could have gotten off the deck, let alone tr
ied to chase them down.
Glancing below, he saw JJ. She had gone around to the lower level and now stood over the body lying on the stone patio. From the color of the blood, the body had been there for a while.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“IT’S JOHNNY BAKER,” JJ said as Thorn joined her. He glanced at the body at her feet, and nodded before he stepped closer and carefully pulled the man’s wallet without getting his fingerprints on it. He checked the ID and then put it back.
“How long do you think he’s been dead?” she asked, feeling sick to her stomach.
“I’d say at least since some time yesterday.”
She glanced up. “You think he fell from the upper balcony?” Thorn nodded. “It could have been an accident.”
“Did you recognize the three people who left in the boat?”
JJ shook her head. “I didn’t get a really good look at them. But they didn’t look familiar. They could have just been passing by in their boat, saw the place and knew it was for rent and stopped.” She looked up toward the upper deck. “You don’t think she’s here, do you?” If she was, then she was also dead.
“I’ll go check,” he said. “If you want to stay—”
“I’m going with you.”
“Of course you are. Remember this is now a crime scene. Did you touch anything?”
She shook her head as she followed him back up the steps to the top floor. As he wiped the two door handles he’d touched, she looked around. “Don’t worry, I won’t disturb anything,” she called as she moved through the massive house.
To her relief, she didn’t find Geneva dead in any of the rooms. Nor did it take long to figure out that only two people had been staying here. A man and a woman, from the clothing she’d found. Only one bed had been slept in. Clothes and swimsuits and towels were thrown about as if the two had been enjoying themselves. At least for a while. There was no sign of Geneva other than all the women’s clothing strewn around. No sign that she’d packed when she’d left either—without her sports car.