But his present mood, as cloudy as this Sunday, was bringing her down. She wanted to see the dimple a smile carved into his cheek. While she worked on her laptop, he sucked down green tea and pored over printouts in hopes of finding something everyone else had missed.
Missed. What had she missed in her search for Danita Inglish? Struck by the obvious, she tapped more keys. A few moments later, she smiled. “Got her.”
“Yeah, where? Timbuktu?”
“Almost. You won’t like it. San Francisco.” She didn’t like it either. The golden city on the bay was also the current home of her mother. “Oakland, actually.”
His muttered curse reverberated inside her. “I should’ve known finding these people wouldn’t be a cinch, but the other coast? Shit. And the widow’s a bust.”
“Give her time to get over her mad. We’ve raised questions. In the meantime, let’s get out of here.” She shut the laptop lid and stretched. “If I look at any more lists on-screen today, I’ll need Lasik surgery.”
Chapter 15
Half an hour later Cort stood at the Great Falls National Park overlook. Only feet below them, the waters of the Potomac foamed over and around jagged rocks in a series of cascades. The river’s angry churning had nothing on the violence inside him.
“Now don’t you feel better?” Mara asked beside him, leaning against the wood-and-stone barrier. She turned as if to read his expression as he stared into the gray waters.
He felt the corners of his mouth lift. Her gentle question did make him feel better. No point in taking out his frustration on her. “Nothing like watching water to soothe the beast. According to the plaque back there, the Potomac’s too rough for navigation from Cumberland to Georgetown. George Washington started a company to create the canal.”
“He had to give up the project when he was elected president. There’s a museum on the Maryland side of the river. Um, we can go there later. If you’re interested, that is.”
Her sister had tried to keep the lid on Mara’s vast store of factoids, out of jealousy or self-centered embarrassment, whatever. Not him. He admired her memory for detail and attention.
“I’m very interested. If there’s time before I have to leave.”
He took her hand as they started walking, and she curved her fingers to fit his grip. The softness and warmth of her skin gave him thoughts that must’ve heated his gaze, judging from her flushed cheeks.
A movement in his peripheral vision prompted him to glance at the others around them. Clones One and Two had tailed them only as far as the parking lot. On foot they’d have been too obvious in this sparse mix of families, young lovers, and senior citizens. “Looks like most people are heading upstream. Let’s follow the water.”
“Figures you’d prefer the way less traveled.”
He slung an arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple. “That way I get you all to myself.”
Her murmur told him she wasn’t immune to even that brief caress. “Or that was a ploy to see if anyone is following us.”
“Busted. Doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy the diversion.” His lips again found the throbbing pulse in her temple. “Seems you didn’t mind it either.”
They set off down the paved path toward Mather Gorge. Maples and sycamores arched toward them on the land side, mingling their scent with that of the rushing river.
“Cassie always put down your store of knowledge like she did the other night?” he asked, trying not to sound too critical.
“Sibling rivalry.” She sighed. “She resented, maybe still does, the fascination for all kinds of information I shared with Dad. She and Mom hated going to museums with us. Dad and I would pore over every exhibit, read every placard, while they couldn’t wait for the gift shop.”
“Not too different from the push-pull in my family.” Cassie had more problems than he knew if she still resented Mara. How far would she go to stop their search?
A group of chattering teenagers came up behind them, so they walked in silence. Farther on, where the trail split, the teens took the right fork toward the canal, and they continued along the river. A jogger passed in the other direction. No one else nearby.
He pulled her from the path and toward the river. They climbed across great slabs of rock for a better view of the gorge, where the waterway widened and leveled off. Mara hopped boulders ahead of him, allowing him the opportunity to enjoy her perfect butt in slim jeans.
When she started to teeter on an uneven surface, he wrapped his arms around her. “A little early in the season for a swim.”
She eyed the rough waves. A nervous laugh escaped her. “Thanks.”
When she turned in his arms to face him, he said, “While I’ve got you, I want to know when you were planning to tell me how you found the other museum guard.”
She tilted her head, circling a manicured nail on his sternum. “I thought you’d never ask.” She grinned. “Facebook.”
The word struck him dumb for a long moment. He bent to touch his forehead to hers. Soft. Warm. Smooth. “Get out. She posted her personal info on Facebook?”
“For everyone, not just friends. She moved near her daughter and grandchild. Even posted pictures of the baby. Danita works for the city of San Francisco. Then I found her address in the online city directory. If she’s gone public, maybe that means she wasn’t involved and has nothing to hide.” Her face fell. “And no ring piece.”
From optimist to skeptic in a heartbeat. “More likely she feels safe after eleven years. The FBI didn’t hound the others as much as me. And she wouldn’t know about Centaur.”
“Wish I didn’t know about them. And the dirty politics in Gramornia. Sort of.” She didn’t move out of his arms, letting him steady them both on top the boulder.
The breeze wrapped him in her scent, and his body went on alert. He couldn’t wait until tonight to taste her again. Her mouth was hungry under his. Sleek and fluid, she tried to hide her sensuality but slowly, she softened, her breasts pressing against him, her tongue seeking his, and need scorched through him like the river’s rush before reality pulled him back from the brink.
Breathing hard, he nuzzled her forehead, letting her spring scent soothe. “You don’t have to stop me. I’m not into getting it on with an audience.”
“All I’d have to do is give a push, and you’d cool off fast enough.”
He looked over his shoulder to see he’d backed up to the boulder’s edge. Regrouping, he picked his way toward the path. She danced, laughing, over the rocks beside him with easy balance. Made him wonder if she’d wobbled earlier so he’d save her. So he’d kiss her. Maybe she trusted him more than she let on.
She shouldn’t.
The looming clouds spattered fat raindrops on their heads. The leading edge of a squall turned fast into a steady rain, driven by the wind.
Now the damn weather conspired against them. He muttered a few choice words.
“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Mara said, turning back the way they’d come. “Mother Nature’s herding us to the truck. I need a good run. Haven’t played tennis lately.”
He ran behind her as she took off at a sprint, her toned legs eating up the trail. He’d been running every day to burn off the tension and frustration. And to give Clones One and Two some diversion. Today was no different, just rainy. He hung back so he could keep the rhythmic movement of her legs and swinging hair in his sights.
Saplings swayed in the wind, their leaves darker green and shiny wet. Rain wrinkled the river’s surface like curly maple. The teens who’d passed them earlier challenged each other for speed as they ran in their drooping jeans and long tees.
When they reached the truck, both were drenched. He handed her a towel from behind the seat and watched as she mopped her hair, then peeled off her sweatshirt. Trying not to stare at the twin nubs against her thin tee, he gripped the steering wheel.
When his cell jangled, a glance at the caller’s number made him clench his jaw. Couldn’t be good news.
“I better get that,” Cort said.
“Hauptman?”
“No.”
***
Cassie waved from the bleachers as Livvie’s team took the field in the bottom of the third inning. Her daughter waved back, beaming a huge smile brighter than this cloudy day.
Unlike sometime, today Livvie was her little girl, not a rebellious preteen. The middle-school years could be tumultuous. She sure as hell remembered having friends one day who the next were clawing her in the back. Add to that the boy-girl thing, and you had hormone overload. Livvie’s dad sure never made any of the games, was spending less and less time with her. So she needed her mom. Recently she’d taken more time for herself. André was her major focus. Cassie vowed she’d make more time for her daughter. Soon.
She sighed, her mind drifting to the man who’d sailed into her life and into her heart. His soulful eyes. His sensuous caresses. His gentle understanding. He made her feel beautiful again, and loved. Not that either one said a word about love. But soon, maybe...
“What a catch!” Another mother seated behind Cassie whacked her on the shoulder. “Livvie just made a great play.” She stuck her bag of popcorn in front of Cassie.
The smack and the salty aroma woke her. She blinked and focused soon enough to see Livvie trotting off the field. She’d apparently caught a fly ball to end the inning. Rallying, Cassie shot to her feet and cheered. From the chatter around her, she realized the bases had been loaded. If Livvie hadn’t dived for the fly, the other team might’ve scored more than one run.
“Thanks.” She took a handful of popcorn. Now she’d pay attention to the game.
Once the crowd settled, she saw André making his way past admiring young mothers. In Euro-cut jeans and a black polo, he looked tastier than the popcorn. As he joined her, he smiled and kissed her cheek.
“Exciting game, chérie?”
Her neighbor fanned herself and grinned. Cassie linked her fingers with Andre’s “Livvie just stopped the other team from scoring.”
“A daughter to be proud of.” He waved at Livvie, but the girl didn’t see. “I cannot understand your American football, but baseball is beginning to make sense. It has nuances and strategy I can understand.”
“Except this is softball. Bigger ball, different pitching style.”
“Basically the same, is it not?”
She laughed and conceded the point.
André joined her in watching the game and cheering for the home team. By the seventh-inning stretch, they led by three runs. He looked around at the cheering fans. “Does your sister ever attend these games?”
“Once in a while,” Cassie said. “Her schedule doesn’t allow the time. Plus she gets to travel, which I don’t. She jets off to see our mother twice a year. I can’t afford to go more than once every other year. In fact, she and Cort are taking off for San Francisco tomorrow.” She wasn’t supposed to talk about their crazy quest for the mysterious puzzle ring pieces, but making it sound like Mara went to see their mom wasn’t giving away any secrets. Besides, who would André tell?
“Then I hesitate to divulge my news.”
She studied his regretful expression. “Bad news?”
“Possibly. My father has a heart condition. Last night he had an ‘episode,’ the doctor called it. At eighty, one never knows. I must return to France see him in hospital.”
“I’m so sorry.” She pressed his arm. “I’ll miss you.” Oops, that sounded selfish when she should be concerned about his father. “Will he be all right?”
“I pray he will. I shall return in a few days, as soon as he is stabilized.” He lifted her hand and kissed the palm. “The next time I fly to France, I shall take you with me. You will love the wine country.”
“That’s so sweet. I’d love to go, but don’t feel you have to—”
The crowd erupted in cheers.
The woman beside her pounded her shoulders with both hands. Popcorn sprayed over them like snow. “Whoo hoo, way to go, Livvie!”
Too late, Cassie leaped to her feet to discover not only had the teams played half an inning, but her daughter had just hit a home run. She yelled and waved as Livvie touched home plate. Her screaming teammates surrounded her, and she didn’t look up.
***
Mara watched Cort listening to his phone, but he said nothing more. Probably wanted privacy. She grabbed the umbrella behind the seat. “I’ll try Twyla Hauptman now.”
She hopped out and ran for the visitor center. Under the entrance roof, she punched in the widow’s number. After three rings, a tentative hello.
“Mrs. Hauptman, this is Mara Marton. I talked to you the other day about the Gramornia crown jewel robbery.”
The widow’s sharp inhalation could’ve been a suppressed sob. “You have some nerve calling me again! You should see the mess here.”
What was going on? “Don’t hang up, please. What happened?”
“I got home from work last night and found my back door wide open. Somebody went through drawers and cabinets and tossed everything around.”
Cort had tried to warn her but now was not the time for I told you so. Mara chewed her lower lip. “How terrible. Did they steal much? Did they get the ring?”
The woman actually growled. “Ring, ring, that’s all you people care about. I got no ring.”
“Did you search for it?”
“Had to, didn’t I? I went through George’s things. No ring. Maybe them burglars were you. Or you led them here. Then the cops made another mess. Don’t call me again. I told the detectives about you, so stay away from me.” She slammed down the receiver.
Exhaling slowly, Mara disconnected. “That went well.”
She dashed back to the truck through the downpour. Thunder boomed in the distance. She fumbled the umbrella as she clambered into her seat. Cort barely looked at her, just stared straight ahead. No wonder. She was a mess. Stringy, wet hair. Frak.
“You get Hauptman?” he said.
“For all the good it did.” She described the call.
“Sounds like the same scenario, a search masked by vandalism. And no ring?”
“She yelled it.” She pulled her hair back and fastened it with a butterfly clip. “Say Centaur’s man or someone else killed Falco and burned his house and also trashed my place. They must figure the Jeweler’s son has one of the ring pieces. Why haven’t they gone after you?”
“I’ve asked myself that. Maybe they’re letting me do their legwork. Maybe they’re waiting to find another ring piece. Saving me for last. Who the hell knows? But if you found Danita Inglish, they can probably track her down too.”
Mara’s pulse jolted. “So she could be in danger. Even in California?”
“Devlin said Centaur has long arms. We need to fly out there. Can you get away?”
“I’m sure I can. But your job, you have to be back tomorrow for another class.”
“Not anymore. That call was from my boss. He fired me.”
“Oh no! Why?” Seeing the grim line of his mouth tightened her throat.
“Said the local FBI agent visited the school twice last week. Bad luck for me the second occurred during a board meeting. A dozen big-money types watched as the Fed flashed his badge. He might as well have waved a cape at a herd of bulls.”
“Didn’t your boss stand up for you?”
“He did before when only a few board members heard about the FBI badgering me. But this time with all of them looking on, he had no choice.”
“That’s so unfair.” She ached to offer the comfort of her arms but he’d surrounded himself with a masculine-defense wall.
His shoulders raised and lowered stiffly in a show of nonchalance. “Not totally. He suggested I could return to the job once I resolved my problems. I still have my consignment business.”
All he needed was another instance of being rejected, being shunned because of his record. He needed to be accepted before he could brush that boulder-sized chip off his shoulder. And he
needed to know he could trust someone before he could trust himself.
Apparently that someone wasn’t her. She was keeping secrets from him. Necessary secrets. And how much could she trust him? She swallowed over a hot lump in her throat.
Chapter 16
Cort and Mara landed in San Francisco just before noon. The city was always cool and usually foggy, Mara had said. He zipped up his windbreaker. Cool, yeah, but the sun shone in a clear bowl of sky.
She was chewing on her lower lip. Anxious about seeing Danita Inglish? Or worried about what she’d tell her mother? She’d worked late and then slept most of the way on the plane, her head against his shoulder. He’d gotten a cramp in his thigh from sitting still for so long, but she’d smelled so fresh and felt so good against him he’d kept still. Even after the long flight, she looked smooth and hot in black pants and a neon-orange jacket.
They’d used her frequent-flier miles for the plane tickets and her boss gave her authorization to use a condo DSF kept in the city. Cort could manage but he wasn’t stupid even if Devlin’s high-handedness ticked him off.
Mara must’ve gauged his mood because she didn’t object when he insisted on paying for the rental car. He followed signs out of the airport then turned north toward the Bay Bridge. The high-speed traffic and all the rapid-fire signage allowed little opportunity to watch for a tail. He mentally crossed his fingers that their last-minute arrangements caught the bad guys with bare asses in the wind. They’d left the Clone Brothers in a traffic snarl near Dulles.
Research didn’t yield much about Inglish. She’d struggled in menial jobs after losing her Smithsonian security-guard position. She and her daughter had lived in a one-room D.C. apartment on welfare until she parlayed her technical skills into a traffic-control monitoring job in Chicago. When her grown daughter moved west and had a baby, Inglish followed. She moved several times since, each time to a better situation. She’d turned her life around. Cort half hoped the woman was innocent and didn’t have a ring piece.
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