With a measure of relief, Jake lowered his weapon and yanked open the front door. Harrison took one look at Jake’s wet naked body and shook his head. “I see I’m not the only one exposed.”
“Cassidy Atkins, this is my partner, Harrison Gordon.” Jake motioned his friend and employee inside. “What took you so long?”
Behind him, Cassidy gasped in surprise and anger. “You were expecting him?”
Jake immediately realized his mistake. He should have told Cassidy that Harrison would be meeting them. She had every right to be angry with him, and he knew his explanation sounded weak and sheepish. But in his defense, he wasn’t accustomed to making explanations to clients. “You were sleeping when I asked Harrison to meet us and bring me some things.”
Cassidy turned on Jake, her eyes still sparking with fury. “Suppose I’d shot him?”
“I didn’t give you a gun, Sunshine.”
“That’s beside the point. If he’d come in, I would have attacked him. And it would have been all your fault.”
Jake eyed her. No doubt she didn’t know what to do with the adrenaline racing through her from her scare. Cassidy hadn’t seemed to listen to his explanation. He was about to speak again when he noticed that she was busy trying to look anywhere but at him. And not succeeding. Was that mirth overtaking her former fear?
Jake finally realized he was standing in the living room in the buff, a gun in his hand, dripping water on the floor. “If you don’t mind, I’ll go finish my shower.”
He retreated with as much dignity as a man with no clothes on could muster. He heard Cassidy giggle and Harrison roar with laughter.
He returned to the living room ten minutes later to find Cassidy and Harrison ensconced on the sofa, talking softly. Harrison stood and wiped his lenses clean of fog. “I was just telling Cassidy that I’ve traced the license number you gave me.”
Cassidy glared at Jake, probably because he hadn’t told her he’d seen the license number through the night-vision binoculars. He’d wanted to find out exactly who they were dealing with first, but Harrison had scuttled that plan by confiding in her.
Somehow Cassidy always had a way of casting order into disorder. Normally Jake and Harrison worked on the same wavelength, explanations between them unnecessary. Jake was rarely as annoyed with Harrison as he was right now, and he had no one to blame but himself. Still, without being told, Harrison usually understood that Jake didn’t share information with a client as if she was a partner. But Cassidy had a way of getting under the skin and finding out what she wanted to know. Jake supposed he couldn’t blame his friend. Not when she affected him exactly the same way.
“So who are the plates registered to?” Jake asked as he wiped up the water he’d dripped on the floor with a towel.
“Dr. Brian Duncan.”
“A doctor?” Jake frowned. The name didn’t ring any bells, and he knew many of the area’s street criminals. “You checked this Duncan out?”
“Sure did. He reported the stolen vehicle earlier today. The guy’s a veterinarian.”
Cassidy looked from Harrison to Jake, confusion in her eyes. “What does this mean?”
“That the guys who are after you are pros,” Harrison told her without hesitation. “They’re watching our office. I had a difficult time shaking a tail on the way here.”
Cassidy reacted with a slight widening of her eyes, a flaring of her nostrils and an obvious effort not to show her fear. But her lips tightened into a thin line, and Jake knew that inside she was trembling.
Jake glared at Harrison for scaring Cassidy, and the man shrugged and took another opportunity to wipe his glasses.
Cassidy caught the byplay between the two men and sighed. “Jake, keeping me in the dark isn’t going to protect me. I need to know what’s going on without your trying to second-guess how I’ll take bad news.”
“Fine,” Jake agreed, having no intention of telling her more than she needed to know. He had a bad feeling about this case. The response time from whoever was after Cassidy and possibly him was too fast, too slick, not to have him really worried for her safety.
Cassidy eyed Jake as if she knew he was patronizing her. No doubt he’d have to defend himself from her charges later.
From his pocket Jake dug the film used for taking pictures of the vehicle in front of his house and tossed it to Harrison. “Have this developed and see what you can come up with.”
Harrison plucked the film out of the air, juggled it, then shoved it into a front pocket that already bulged with pens, business cards and phone messages.
“I suppose you aren’t going to tell me if you find anything on that film, either,” Cassidy complained. “I thought we had this settled. Either you share the information with me, or I find another private investigator.”
“The lady knows how to bargain,” Harrison said with a glint in his warm brown eyes that suggested he was enjoying Jake’s discomfort.
Jake ignored Harrison, instead reading the determination in the set of Cassidy’s chin, the hardening of her eyes, and nodded, this time meaning it. “When Harrison calls, you’ll be the first to know.”
“There’s more,” Harrison said, and from his tone, Jake knew he wouldn’t like what his friend said next. Especially since he hadn’t asked Harrison to check out any other clues.
They really had little to go on.
“You found out who owned the subsidiary belonging to the company Cassidy called?” Jake asked.
“I’m still digging. But I’m not hopeful. The trail is too well hidden. These guys are good. They don’t make mistakes.”
“Everyone makes mistakes,” Jake muttered. Including him. He’d made the biggest mistake of all by getting involved with Cassidy again. He couldn’t seem to think clearly with her around. When she told him she’d missed him, she’d affected him in a way he couldn’t combat, because she slipped by his weaknesses—which annoyed the hell out of him.
How could he protect her when his mind kept drifting? How could he concentrate when she looked at him and told him she’d missed him? Even now he was wondering what she’d meant by that remark when he should have been asking Harrison what else he had.
“What more did you find out?” Cassidy asked, her shoulders squared, her back straight as if bracing for more bad news.
“Jake’s house and office phones are bugged. So is the phone at your house.”
Chapter Five
Cassidy heard Harrison tell Jake about the bugged phones. Maybe it was her exhaustion, maybe it was that her mind couldn’t take another setback, but she just couldn’t think anymore about all this detective stuff. She didn’t even like reading mysteries, much less figuring them out. She preferred romance novels, especially ones that made her laugh or cry.
So she had difficulty thinking about telephone bugs and stolen license plates when she could dwell on far more pleasant topics. Such as running smack-dab into a naked Jake Cochran.
Whew! He sure was built. The sleek tailored clothes he wore hid broad shoulders and a powerful chest covered with a triangle of dark curls. Slender hips, muscular thighs and calves. And the cutest tightest butt she’d ever seen.
She refused to think about his sex, nestled in more dark curls. She absolutely, positively wouldn’t think about it. She’d always hated women who inventoried body parts. She would never do such a thing.
So who practically salivated at seeing him naked?
Well, she had. She had been cataloging each asset, her mouth almost watering over the sum total of his parts. The man looked good in clothes. But naked, he was like a Greek sculpture.
Still, what the hell was wrong with her? This was Jake she was thinking about. A friend. She didn’t think of Jake as a potential lover.
You just did.
Hush.
You’re lying to yourself if you can’t admit he’s got the most perfect—
“Shut up.” When the room suddenly fell silent and Jake and Harrison looked at her curiously, Cassidy realized s
he’d spoken aloud. “Sorry, I was arguing with myself.”
“Who won?” Jake teased.
I did, her conscience replied smugly. You’ll never think of him as a brother again.
Cassidy blushed and stood. “It’s been a long day. Maybe I should turn in.”
Harrison rose to his feet, too. He handed Jake three cell phones and a leather bag filled with what looked like more electronics equipment.
“Keep in touch.” Harrison shook Cassidy’s hand goodbye. “Sorry I frightened you, ma’am.” Then he turned to Jake. “There’s a shoe box of cash in that bag, so don’t go leaving it unattended.”
After Harrison departed, Jake locked the door. For the first time Cassidy realized the cabin had only one bedroom, one bed. And Jake was much too tall to sleep comfortably on the sofa. “Jake, I fit on the couch better than you do. You take the bed.”
He shook his head, rubbing a kink from his shoulder. “I doubt I’ll sleep tonight. You might as well be comfortable.”
She planted her hands on her hips. “You need sleep just as much as I do. If tomorrow is anything like today, you’ll need to be alert to protect me.” She hesitated, then blurted, “We’re both adults. There’s no reason we can’t share the bed.”
Attagirl. Now you’re talking.
Would you please go back to wherever you came from? Cassidy begged.
You want me to leave when your life is finally getting interesting?
Yes!
Cassidy caught Jake looking at her oddly. She wondered if she moved her lips when she talked to herself. She’d better be careful. She’d had a hard enough time convincing him to let her stay with him. If he started to doubt her mental health, he’d insist she hole up someplace he considered safer.
“I want to look through my mother’s diaries and at the photographs again before I turn in.” Jake had avoided discussing their sleeping arrangements, and Cassidy knew if he slept at all, he fully intended to use the couch. She kept forgetting how stubborn Jake could be and how easily he avoided conflict by deflecting the issue. As sleepy as she felt, Cassidy knew she couldn’t lie down and sleep while Jake went through his mother’s things alone. An obligation to support him in any way she could overrode her sleepiness.
Especially when she looked into Jake’s eyes. They looked haunted with betrayal, and the fact that he seemed to try so hard to hide his pain from her made her heart go out to him.
“Jake?”
“Yeah?”
“What has you so worried?” she asked as she refused the comfortable couch and searched through the kitchen for coffee and two mugs.
Jake raked a hand through his hair. “As much as I’d like to believe our problems are due to one of my old cases or one of your clients, the facts don’t add up. Your phone call triggered someone to come after you and me. I can’t see any other alternative but to believe that there’s something in the box that they want.”
She found coffee in the refrigerator and started a pot. While she rinsed the dust from two mugs, she frowned. “Why would anyone want that old stuff? Who would think it valuable except your mother’s children?”
“I don’t know. But Harrison checked my phone messages, and apparently the clerk I tipped called my house and said two guys came into the print shop after we left. They flashed official-looking badges and asked what we copied and what we did with the copies.”
Cassidy recalled Jake’s tip and understood why the clerk went out of his way to tell Jake what had happened. “But you lost the tail. How did they discover we’d stopped in the print shop?”
“Good question. They must have traced my credit card, which means they have an especially good computer hacker working for them.”
“What kind of badges did they flash?”
“The kid wasn’t sure. He said they were silver. I suspect they were fake.”
“Why?”
“Law enforcement isn’t usually that efficient. Besides, we aren’t criminals. Why would the law be after us?”
Cassidy plugged in the pot and added coffee and water. “How did the clerk get your phone number?”
“It was on the receipt I filled out for the parcel service. What’s important is not how they did it. What I’m concerned about is my sisters.”
“The mail receipts had their addresses?” she guessed, suddenly realizing why Jake was so concerned.
He nodded. “So if they can’t get the information from my box of stuff, maybe they’ll try and take it from my sisters.” His face deepened with lines of worry.
Cassidy found sugar packets on a shelf next to non-dairy creamer. “I know you didn’t want to call, but maybe you should warn them.”
“Harrison and I discussed that while you slept in the car. Since I don’t trust my phone not to be bugged, I stopped and called them from a pay phone. Neither sister was home. But I hired a bodyguard to protect each of them.”
Cassidy could hear the frustration in his tone and could only imagine his despair. After all his years of searching for his sisters, he’d found them—only to place them in danger. The coffee she handed him seemed too small an offering for the trouble she’d brought him this morning, but Jake eagerly accepted the coffee, refusing the creamer and sugar.
“I’d go check on my sisters myself, but I might lead our pursuers right to their doors.”
“Let’s hope they’re off on vacation or out of town for business, instead of grocery shopping or at the movies.”
“Harrison will keep trying to call and warn them. Meanwhile, maybe by the time my sisters return, we can nail these guys.”
“How?” Cassidy tried to keep the skepticism from her voice. While she didn’t doubt Jake’s ability or his determination, they didn’t have much to go on.
“If we can figure out what they want, we can figure out who would want it.”
“Sounds like a plan.” While she added two packets of sugar to her coffee, Jake brought over his briefcase. He emptied the documents on the kitchen table while she masked a yawn.
The pictures jumped out at her, black-and-white grainy eight-by-tens. She flipped over the pictures, hoping they might be labeled, but no one had written anything on the backs. Cassidy dealt the pictures out like cards faceup in neat rows of four across and three down. All the pictures except two had people in them. One showed an island, the other a cove.
Cassidy peered at the people in the pictures. From their manner of dress and the vehicles in the street scenes, she estimated the time period to be mid to late 1960s, a few years before Jake had been born.
She peered at the people’s faces for clues, wondering if Jake’s features resembled his folks’. “Do you remember what your parents looked like?”
“My mom had short blond hair.”
None of the women in the photos were blond. Yet one had eyes shaped liked Jake’s and long straight dark hair that hung past her waist. She was in several pictures and in one shot a tall dark-haired man with a military haircut had his arm around her. They were looking adoringly into each other’s eyes.
Cassidy pointed to the pair. “Could they be your parents?”
Jake looked up from the documents he was sorting. “I just told you my mom had—”
“Hair can be cut, the color changed.”
Jake picked up the photograph and stared at the couple. He remained silent for a full minute. Finally he flicked the picture back onto the table in disgust. “I just don’t know.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. How old were you when you last saw your mother? Five?” When Jake didn’t respond, Cassidy looked again at the picture. “The man’s built like you. He’s tall and has your eyes.”
“Lots of men are tall and have eyes like mine.”
“But he has the same silhouette, his neckline and shoulders are shaped like yours. And there’s something about his smile that reminds me of you.”
“You’re seeing things that aren’t there.”
“Maybe. But your mother saved these pictures for a reason. It’
s likely she’s in one of them. And it’s also likely that your father is, too.”
She could tell Jake wasn’t taking her suggestions seriously. Perhaps she was reading too much into a look, a smile and a similarity of neck and shoulders. “Okay, Mr. Hotshot Detective, what have you found?”
Jake flipped past the birth certificates to a marriage certificate. “Now this is odd.”
“What?”
“It’s a marriage certificate for a Mary Lou Ellis to a Michael Scott. My mother’s name was Janet, and I can’t recall her maiden name. Dad was Steven Cochran.”
“That is strange. Maybe it’s not your parents’ marriage certificate.”
“Why would my mother have saved someone else’s? Unless…”
“Unless what?”
“Unless they changed their names.” Jake stood and paced, waving his hand as he spoke. “That would explain why I couldn’t find them. I couldn’t find social-security numbers, tax returns, school records. I searched for years and never found anything about Janet and Steve Cochran because they didn’t exist.”
“They changed their names before you were born?”
“They must have. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
Cassidy frowned. “Unless my father mixed up the files and someone else’s marriage certificate fell into this box.”
Jake’s voice held suppressed excitement. “No, it makes sense that they changed their names. It explains why I could never find a trace of them.”
“But why would they do that?”
“There could be lots of reasons. They wanted to hide.”
“From who?”
“An ex-lover. A parent, maybe my grandparents. Or maybe they were falsely accused of committing a crime and had to flee.”
Cassidy could see Jake turning over the possibilities in his mind. He had quite an imagination. She couldn’t have come up with so many reasons so quickly. Perhaps they should leave the past in the past. Jake might not like what he found.
Yet she had no doubt that he would find the answers. She could read the determination in the fire of his topaz eyes and hear it in the excitement in his voice. Jake wouldn’t give up until he had the answers he sought, until he’d solved the mystery of his past.
The Hidden Years Page 7