“But everyone we’ve talked to about him has told us he’s not very bright,” she replied. “And whoever got Cole and Amberly out of their house in the middle of the night had to be smart.”
“Jeff just might be hiding his cunning under a barrel.” Jackson thought of the surly bartender. “We’ll check him out and then we’ll head back to Kansas City. We’ll pick up some of those chocolates your mother likes and then take them to her and have a little visit.”
She shot him a startled look. “That’s not necessary. She can wait until I can get time to visit her alone.”
“On the contrary. I’d love an opportunity to chat with dear old Mom,” he replied.
He was interested to meet her mother, to find out what kind of a woman would allow herself to be fleeced out of not just her own fortune but her daughter’s, as well.
He also found himself wondering what Marjorie’s bedroom looked like. If there was a touch of luxury there that wasn’t present in the rest of her tiny house. Did she indulge herself in colorful silk sheets or wear an expensive nightgown to bed every night?
He pulled his thoughts back into the case, knowing that it didn’t matter if Natalie Redwing had sensed something primal between him and Maggie. It didn’t matter that he felt it himself—not just desire, but also need. Not just a sexual pull but an emotional one, as well. None of it mattered, because he knew they would never follow through on it.
The case—he had to remain focused on the case. He needed to find the answers, solve the case and get back home before Maggie got any deeper into his skin.
* * *
UNFORTUNATELY THE SHORT DRIVE to Bledsoe’s tavern was a waste of time. It was Jeff’s night off.
They spent an hour driving around town, trying to chase down his whereabouts, but finally gave up and headed back to Kansas City.
The last thing Marjorie wanted was to take Jackson to her mother’s apartment. There was no reason for the two of them to ever meet, no reason for Jackson to invade her personal life to such a degree.
And yet she knew she should probably stop by for a quick visit now. With the information about the lying Jeff Maynard on the table before them she had a feeling the case was about to take on a life of its own and time to visit with her mother might not come again for a while.
It took her only minutes to stop at the specialty store that sold the expensive white-and-dark-chocolate almonds that her mother loved, and then she was back in the car with Jackson and headed to the upscale apartment building where her mother lived.
“You look nervous,” Jackson observed.
She frowned and released a sigh. “I guess I just don’t want you to judge my mother as some silly ninny who just lets men scam her. My father spoiled her. He took care of the finances and when he died she’d never paid a bill in her life. She was utterly clueless. If she has any faults at all, it’s that she trusted too much and trusted the wrong men.”
“Maggie, you don’t have to defend your mother to me.” Jackson’s voice was a low, gentle caress. “Trust me, I’m the last person to judge anyone.”
She felt herself relax a bit. “No matter what man was in her life at the time, she always made me feel like I was her top priority. Despite everything she was a good and loving mother to me.”
“You never wanted kids?” he asked.
A tiny ache shot off in her heart. “In another world, in another life, I might have wanted children. But, considering the fact that I don’t want a man in my life, I made the decision that children were out of the question.”
She glanced at him, her heart doing a small leap as always at his attractiveness. “You know so much about my early life, but I don’t know much about yours.”
“There really isn’t much to tell. I don’t have any memories of my mother, and my dad was kind of a vagabond. We moved around a lot.”
His voice held a stress it hadn’t before, and it immediately gave her the feeling that there was more to the story than the tiny bit he’d just shared.
“Are you and your father close?” she asked, wanting more details of who he was and where he’d come from.
“No.” The single word snapped out of him like a gunshot. He raised a hand and raked it through his thick hair. “We had a falling-out years ago and went our separate ways.”
She shot him another glance and he gave her his irreverent, sexy smile. “I’m just a poor, lonely Southern boy with nobody meaningful to fill up the hours of my days and nights.”
“I have a feeling that’s just the way you like it,” she returned. When she cast him another surreptitious glance, he was staring out the passenger window.
She suspected there was a great depth inside him, a place where he allowed nobody to go. A part of her wanted to be invited in, wanted to discover the man beneath the charm, but it was a foolish wish that would lead only to making their parting more difficult when it came time for him to leave and return to his home in Baton Rouge.
As she pulled into a space in the parking lot in front of her mother’s apartment building, nervous anxiety tingled through her veins.
She knew it was past time for her to visit with her mother, but it felt strange to have Jackson along with her. They got out of the car and approached the double doors where an intercom was used as security.
She punched the button to contact her mother, who buzzed them in to the small lobby. “Mom’s place is on the second floor,” she said as she led him toward the nearby elevator. “Her name is Katherine, Katherine Devoe.”
They stepped into the elevator and instantly she was aware that he was too male, too close, and the memory of that kiss they’d shared seared through her brain.
“We’ll keep this brief,” she said as she tightened her fingers on the box of chocolate.
“Whatever,” he agreed easily. “We can’t do much more about the investigation until morning. Jeff Maynard is my top priority at the moment, and we already know he won’t be in at the tavern until late tomorrow afternoon.”
The elevator stopped and the doors slid open. If she were smart, she’d make this visit with her mother last until bedtime. It was obvious Jackson intended to bunk with her another night. He’d made no other arrangements to go anywhere else throughout the day.
It was just after six now, and that left far too many evening hours spent in Jackson’s company before bedtime. We’ll talk about the case, she told herself as she rapped on her mother’s apartment door.
Katherine Devoe was an older, taller version of Marjorie. She had the same red-blond hair, the same green eyes, and as she opened the door, those eyes lit up with delight.
“Marjorie,” she exclaimed, and pulled Marjorie into a quick hug. She released her, her gaze lingering on Jackson, who stood just behind Marjorie. “I see you not only brought me a box of chocolates, but some eye candy, as well.”
“Jackson Revannaugh,” he said and held out his hand. Katherine slipped her hand into his and released a girlish giggle as Jackson lowered his mouth to kiss the back of her hand. “It’s a real pleasure to meet the mother of such an amazing woman,” he said as he released Katherine’s hand. “I see now where Maggie gets her looks.”
“Maggie?” Katherine raised a perfectly waxed eyebrow. “I like it.”
He was definitely pouring it on thick, Marjorie thought as she beelined for the white sofa. Jackson followed, sitting far too close to her.
Katherine closed and locked the door and then turned to face them, delight on her pretty features. “Well, isn’t this a special night.” She gazed at Jackson. “My daughter has never brought a friend to visit.”
“He’s not a friend, he’s my partner,” Marjorie exclaimed.
“Well, then, you’ve never brought a partner over to visit, either,” Katherine said. “May I get either of you something to drink?”
�
�I’m fine,” Marjorie replied.
“I don’t suppose you have any bourbon?” Jackson asked.
Katherine flew to the glass-and-gold minibar in the corner of the room. “I do have some bourbon. Straight up or on the rocks?”
“Straight up is fine.” He leaned back on the sofa, looking as relaxed as if he’d been here a hundred times before.
“I do believe I hear a little of the good old South in your accent, Mr. Revannaugh,” Katherine said as she fixed the drink.
“Born in Baton Rouge and spent most of my time in and around the area,” he replied as she handed him the drink.
“What a coincidence—I had a visitor yesterday who was from Baton Rouge. He told me he’d moved up to Mystic Lake to retire.”
Every nerve in Marjorie’s body jangled with adrenaline. “That is quite a coincidence,” Jackson replied. “An old friend of yours?”
“Actually, I’d never met the man before in my life, but he said he was an old friend of Big Bob, my second husband. He was a very nice man, and we had a pleasant visit.”
“What was his name?” Marjorie’s nerves refused to quiet.
Katherine frowned for a moment. “Edward...Edward Benson— No that isn’t right. Bentz. Edward Bentz, that’s it.”
Marjorie made a mental note of the name as Jackson and her mother visited while he sipped on his drink. It was obvious that Katherine was utterly charmed by Jackson, who was on his best behavior and regaled the older woman with stories of old cases along with his admiration for Marjorie.
Katherine was lapping it up, smiling with motherly approval at Marjorie, as if pleased that her daughter had finally found such a wonderful man.
They wound up staying for an hour, then Marjorie was the one to call a halt to the visit. “Mom, we’ve still got to grab some dinner and do some work,” she said as she stood.
“Your daughter is a tough taskmaster,” Jackson said teasingly as he also got up from the sofa.
“She is all about work, but I keep telling her that life shouldn’t be just about that.” Katherine’s eyes twinkled at Jackson, as if she shared a secret with him. “Maybe you can make her slow down a bit and enjoy the fun in life.”
“Mom can simper and you can wink all you want, but nobody is going to make me change,” Marjorie said once they were alone in the elevator and headed back downstairs.
“It’s obvious your mother has your best interests at heart,” he replied.
“Whatever,” she said as they exited the elevator. She didn’t speak again until they were in the car and headed to her house.
“Something isn’t right.” Worry simmered in the pit of her stomach.
“Something isn’t right about what?” he asked.
“Big Bob was from Texas, not from the South. I’d like to know what a man from Baton Rouge who has just recently moved to the small town of Mystic Lake is doing visiting with my mother.”
“Does seem like a bit of a coincidence,” Jackson replied, his voice low and heavy with a new somber note.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m not much of a believer when it comes to those kinds of coincidences. We need to find Edward Bentz and see what he’s up to. I have a bad feeling and I want to make sure that somehow something we’re working on now hasn’t brought danger to my mother’s doorstep.”
She swallowed hard, but it was impossible to get the taste of something bad about to happen out of her throat.
Chapter Seven
Jackson paced the floor of Maggie’s tiny kitchen, fighting the frustration of three long days without answers, and a simmering desire for the woman that threatened to explode out of control at any given moment.
For the past three days they’d been chasing down people they couldn’t find. Jeff Maynard either had skipped town or was holed up with somebody they didn’t know about.
According to his boss at Bledsoe’s, Jeff had called and asked for a few days off due to a bad case of the flu. Jackson suspected he had a bad case of FBI-itis. Eventually he’d poke his head out or somebody in town would slip up, and they’d find him.
Edward Bentz had also been an elusive character. They’d discovered he was renting a room from an older woman named Betty Fields. They’d checked with her only to discover that Edward had gone back to Baton Rouge to finish up some last-minute business and would be back at her place late that evening.
Jackson had checked with his contacts in Baton Rouge to get a handle on the man, but apparently he had no criminal record and a background search had yielded only the information that he was fifty-five years old, had worked for over twenty years distributing medical supplies in and around the Baton Rouge area and several other states, and had recently retired from that position.
Unbeknownst to Maggie, Jackson had contacted her director and arranged for an agent to sit outside Katherine Devoe’s apartment as security until they had an opportunity to check out Edward Bentz.
Meanwhile, nothing had come of the investigation into the shoot-out at the motel except that whoever had fired the shots had indeed used an Uzi...serious firepower that was definitely intended to kill.
He poured himself a cup of coffee and flopped in one of the two chairs at the table. The sun was just beginning to peek up shy, faint beams over the horizon.
Although they had been unable to connect with the two people they most wanted to speak to, the hours of the days hadn’t passed with inactivity. Yesterday they’d spent the entire day in the Mystic Lake sheriff’s office, interviewing every single person who had worked under Cole’s command.
They’d learned that Cole was considered a tough but fair boss. While some of the deputies seemed to have a healthy fear of Cole, it was tempered with an enormous amount of respect. No red flags had presented, leaving Marjorie and Cole to come home each day still confused about who was behind whatever had happened to Amberly and Cole.
It bothered him that they hadn’t found their bodies. It was just like the case he’d been working on in Bachelor Moon, where Sam and his wife and their daughter had been missing now for weeks, and their bodies had never been found. The case remained unsolved.
He and Maggie had fallen into a routine, and he knew he probably had about half an hour before she’d make her morning appearance in the kitchen.
Maggie. He took another sip of his coffee and closed his eyes. He had yet to see her bedroom, but last night in the middle of the night they’d accidently bumped into each other in the hallway. The tiny night-light she kept plugged into the socket next to the bathroom had been enough illumination for him to see that she’d been clad in a short deep purple silk nightgown that had fired the red in her hair and showcased every curve she possessed.
Jackson had nearly fallen to his knees with desire. Their eyes had locked in the dim hallway, hers gleaming with a light that made him want to reach out, to pick her up in his arms and carry her into a bedroom and make love to her.
But before he’d been able to move a muscle, she’d scampered like a rabbit back into her bedroom and closed the door behind her.
He’d had a feeling that if they’d remained in that hallway for a second longer, she would have awakened in his arms this morning after a long night of lovemaking.
He blew out a sigh of frustration, both mental and sexual. He felt like a powder keg about to explode. Taking another drink of his coffee, he smelled her before she entered the room, that sweet floral scent that ramped up his testosterone to caveman levels.
“Well, aren’t we informal today,” she said as she entered the kitchen and her gaze took in his jeans and white polo shirt.
“Yeah, with this heat I didn’t feel like doing the whole agent kind of dress code.” He gazed at her navy slacks and white blouse. “You know, you could do casual with me...maybe some shorts and a blouse that actually has some color to it. I have to admit,
you look amazing in purple.”
He grinned as she ignored him and strode over to the coffeepot. “You can pretend you didn’t hear me, but the flames in your cheeks tell me otherwise.”
“A gentleman would never mention a lady’s nightgown,” she replied.
Jackson laughed. “I don’t remember ever confessing to be a hundred percent gentleman, and do you realize how often you blush?” He waited until she was seated across from him at the table. “Are you a virgin?”
She slapped a hand across her mouth in an obvious effort to prevent herself from spewing coffee. She swallowed and coughed, all the while glaring at him with those amazing green eyes. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no, I’m not a virgin. Why are you even thinking about things like that?”
There was a new wariness in her eyes that told him to back off. He wrapped his hands around his coffee cup and shrugged. “Because I figured it was easier than thinking about this damn case. If it wasn’t for that shooting at the motel, I’d be feeling more than a little bit of déjà vu.”
“What do you mean?” She was obviously relieved by the change in topic.
“If Cole and Amberly were kidnapped, then so far we haven’t figured out a motive. In the case I was working on in Bachelor Moon, we never figured out a motive for what we finally came to believe had to have been a kidnapping. In both cases no ransom notes have been received, everyone couldn’t imagine the people having any enemies and no bodies have been found.”
“But you said none of the investigators in the case in Bachelor Moon were threatened in any way,” she replied, obviously not wanting the cases to be related and still clinging to the hope that they would find the couple alive and well any day now.
“True,” he replied. Hell, he didn’t want the two cases to be related, but comparing the facts of the crimes gave him pause. The fact that Edward Bentz was from the Baton Rouge area, which was very close to Bachelor Moon, and that he was now in Mystic Lake definitely was too much of a coincidence to ignore.
He got up from the table and headed toward the fridge. “I’ll scramble us up some eggs and make toast and then we can get on the road. Hopefully today we’ll get some answers that will help make something about this case come into focus.”
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