“Oh no,” she warned, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. She didn’t trust him. Not one damn bit. “Don’t even think about kissing me again.”
“I wasn’t planning on it, but you can give up the affronted virgin act.” Jack’s smile grew, if that were possible, and only made the guy more attractive. “Admit it, you were just as surprised by what happened as I was.”
“What’re you talking about?” Of course she’d been surprised, but admitting it was another matter entirely.
“You felt something. Same as me, and it was damn weird. You know. Given our history.”
Lucy rolled her eyes and counted to ten, as much to gain some sanity as to stave off irritation. “Go ahead and think that, if it eases your ego.”
His chuckle rolled out telling her he didn’t believe her, an idea confirmed when he shook his head and said, “Uh-uh.” He waited until she made eye contact again then gripped her gaze, holding it hostage. Without relinquishing her focus, that golden-haired head continued moving from side to side slowly and, for those few seconds, she somehow lost herself in his amused stare. “You responded, which means you liked it. And your denial lacks conviction, so sell me something else.”
His meaning sank in and slapped her upside the head with more reality. Earth to Lucy, this is Jack Finnegan, her mind screamed. Remember? The same guy who disappointed you all those years ago. The same chauvinistic jerk who’s been on your back for years for not jumping through his hoops, his most recent being to quit the business because he doesn’t think a woman, especially one with your background, can be a successful investigator.
She clutched her evening bag with renewed vehemence. “Okay, I responded.” She shook off any and all residual effects of that engaging smile and offered one of her own. “A natural reaction, considering the situation.” Matching his mannerisms while still clutching her evening bag, she crossed both arms, nonchalantly placing the bag in between one arm and her body without drawing attention to it. “But that’s all it was,” she said, maintaining eye contact and daring him to dispute her claim with her glare. “We hate each other and that’s not about to change. Not because of a stupid kiss.”
His smile died. “You have such a way with words. Someday, Maddox, I just might make you eat them. But not today. Right now, I want to know what you were doing in Frank’s office.” He waited a moment, then arched a brow. “We’re not leaving this room until you talk.”
Taking a deep breath, she ignored his arrogance, as well as the noticeable strain of his tuxedo jacket stretched across a broad chest as he continued leaning against the wall. The guy would have to appear negligently sexy, like he was promising a night on the town. Or one in bed. She deliberately glanced away. She wasn’t interested in either. Nor was she going to talk.
“Answer my question, Lucy.” Jack’s demand interrupted her thoughts. “Why were you in there in the first place? What were you looking for?”
Her head snapped up and she uncrossed her arms, inconspicuously dropping the hand with her bag to shield it from view. Judging from the heated authority in his voice along with his intense stare, he expected answers, but still she remained mute.
“Well?” he prodded after another long bout of silence.
She thought he might finally give up and let her go, until that sexy glint returned and he flashed another hell of a smile, sending a rush of heat throughout her body.
“I’ve got all night.” He indicated her dress with a nod. “I can’t think of anything better than being cooped up in a closet with a beautiful woman wearing a getup like yours.” His gaze took a trip over her body, and quivering chill bumps danced up her spine. Their glances reconnected, but she couldn’t maintain eye contact when he added, “Correction. There is one thing.”
Heat engulfed her face. Lucy knew she should be worried about getting out of this room with the thumb drive, not feeling tingles on the back of her neck his stare seemed to generate. His teasing was as shocking and unexpected as his kiss had been. In all the time she’d known him, since kindergarten, she’d never heard him make any kind of suggestive comment to anyone, and here he was undressing her with his eyes and flirting outrageously. Who knew By-the-book Finnegan had it in him?
“I already told you, I was doing my job. I heard a noise and went in to investigate,” she blurted out, redirecting her unwanted thoughts.
“What kind of noise?” All flirtation vanished and the Jack Finnegan she’d grown up with suddenly reappeared, as his teasing expression morphed into one that exposed a shrewd awareness. This Jack she could handle.
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “A loud thumping. Like someone hit the wall.”
“Thumping?”
“Yes,” Lucy lied, meeting his gaze without flinching. “Yet when I went inside, I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. As a precaution, I checked the windows. They were locked. I was on my way out when I almost ran into you.”
Jack nodded, seeming to consider her explanation. “You were gone from the main room for more than ten minutes. How long were you in there?”
“I didn’t realize bathroom breaks were timed. That’s where I was headed, to check my makeup, but never got the chance because I’d barely passed the room when I heard the noise.” Holding her bag discreetly in front of her, she dug through it to find her lipstick, taking the thumb drive out at the same time and palming it. She held the tube up and nodded at the small mirror over a nearby sink she’d spotted earlier. “You don’t mind if I do it now, do you?” She then proceeded to reapply the lipstick. “And by the way, I didn’t know it was the judge’s office when I went inside,” she said offhandedly when finished. She redeposited the tube into her bag, then smiled at him. “You might want to check out Cardello’s office, to make sure nothing’s missing, since I couldn’t tell.” Her eyebrows shot up. “I take it we’re done here?”
“I’ll check out Frank’s office. And yeah, we’re done, once I see what’s in your purse.”
Lucy held her smile in place, tsk-tsking. “Really, Jack.” Her attention went back to the mirror, and while observing his reflection, she patted her hair, pretending to straighten a perfect hairdo that had cost a day’s pay, but well worth it, considering her transformation. In her mind, there wasn’t much you could do to improve on brown hair and brown eyes. But the hairdresser had proven her wrong. A few auburn wisps complemented her features and made her look, if not beautiful, then better than her usual—which bordered on plain.
“What could I possibly carry in this little thing that would interest you?” she asked, turning around and lifting the bag with one hand while holding the drive in the other behind her back. “It barely has room for makeup and a cell phone.”
“Then it shouldn’t take long.” Jack stuck out his hand and waited.
“Fine.” She grudgingly slapped the bag onto his palm. Holding her breath, she fingered the small device and watched him open the clasp.
He checked the contents then sent her a skeptical glare, holding up the earpiece along with the listening device that looked like a mini stethoscope. “Still expect me to believe you went into his office to check out a noise?”
Her hand closed reflexively around the drive, now hidden in the gown’s satin folds at her side. Lucy glanced at the door.
“Forget it. There is no escape,” Jack said, as if her intentions were plastered in bold print across her face. “You’re not leaving this room until you tell me the truth. Why were you in Judge Cardello’s office?”
Weighing her options, Lucy swallowed hard and looked down at the tile floor. “I’ve already told you the truth. I heard a noise.” Stalling, she studied the intricate design, trying to think of something that would get her out of this room without raising more suspicion. She didn’t need Jack Finnegan dogging her butt to keep her from digging deeper into her friend’s disappearance, especially since no one believed she was really missing.
A solid minute of silence elapsed before his heavy sigh hit her ears.
&nb
sp; “Duncan called me with a heads-up. Said you might try something.” He snorted. “It appears he knows his investigators and I doubt he’d be happy if he knew I caught you coming out of Frank’s office. Weren’t you warned to behave before he let you work tonight?”
Still eyeing the floor, Lucy didn’t respond. Why bother? She was fighting Oakmont’s good old boy network, and word traveled fast within it. Jack and the judge were definitely members, so apparently was her employer, the owner of Duncan Investigations. In this rural part of Kentucky, halfway between Frankfort and Louisville, all three wealthy families—the Cardellos, Duncans, and Finnegans—went back five generations. She should have kept quiet until she had proof instead of going to Gerald Duncan with her concerns and accusations. They’d obviously discussed her amongst themselves.
How was she to know that her esteemed boss was Judge Frank Cardello’s godfather when the topic had never come up before? Geez, talk about the epitome of GOB connections.
Frustration filled her. Lucy couldn’t let her best friend’s absence and all the unanswered questions go without trying to find out more. If the situation were reversed…if Lucy had been the one to disappear…Cassie would move heaven and hell to unearth the truth.
“Cat got your tongue?” Jack asked, drawing her gaze. “I’d start talking if I were you.”
Lucy took in his determined, but also honest expression. Jack’s sincerity reflected in his oceanic eyes, something she’d never noticed before. He might be able to help, but she’d be a fool to risk telling him everything.
“Okay. You caught me. I wanted to check out his safe,” Lucy said, admitting the obvious and mixing the truth with a few lies, something she was good at. “Mike warned me that you were coming so I didn’t get the chance.” The ploy just might give her some time to figure out a strategy to deal with him once Cardello realized the drive was gone.
“What did you hope to find?”
“You tell me.” Lucy lifted her shoulder in a negligent shrug. “Didn’t Duncan fill you in?”
Laughing softly, he relaxed, leaned further against the wall, and crossed his legs at his ankles. “You’ll have to do better than that.” His chuckle ended in a smug grin that was still in place as he watched her watching him. “Well?” he asked a moment later when she still hadn’t spoken.
Rats. He clearly planned to stay awhile, which meant she’d have to give up a bit more. “Okay. Okay. Incriminating information. What else?” she said between clenched teeth. “Cassandra Harding was here. She met with Judge Cardello and no one’s seen her since. Cassie’s missing and no one seems to care.” Her chin notched higher. “He’s involved in her disappearance, I just know it.” The thumb drive had to be the key to why.
Lucy didn’t care that everyone loved the judge. Hell, no one except Cassie had the balls to investigate him. Not the touted shoo-in for the next governor’s race.
“I’ve known Frank a long time. If Ms. Harding is missing, he isn’t responsible. Besides, Duncan explained her absence. According to her supervisor at the TV station in Louisville, she’s on a special assignment and will report in when she has something, which is her usual pattern.”
Lucy cast her eyes down to focus on the tiles again. The certainty she caught in his voice, along with the sincerity spilling out of his gaze, confused her.
Jack truly believed his spiel, but few knew that Cassie always stayed in contact with Lucy when on assignment, special or otherwise, a habit started in college. Neither had a family who cared, so they’d become each other’s family. Her friend also kept her iPhone on and within reach, even joked about being unable to function without it. Since she hadn’t returned any of Lucy’s calls or texts in over forty-eight hours, Lucy saw nothing usual about her actions. Plus, only she knew that Cassie’s current assignment had eventually led to the judge. Yet without examining the proof she had in her hand, she wasn’t about to reveal anything else.
“A word of advice, Lucy. You’re off target. If you really believe your friend is missing, search somewhere else.”
His soft voice held a steely edge that sent a tremor of fear down her spine.
“Yeah, yeah.” Her back went ramrod and her resolve grew. Jack Finnegan might scare her, but he wouldn’t sway her from her purpose. Neither would the judge. “I got that, and now that you’ve warned me, there’s no further reason to keep me here.”
His smile suddenly turned too knowing as his eyes took a trip over her gown again. When his focus landed directly below her chin, Lucy gritted her teeth, hating the goose bumps now rising that had nothing to do with fear.
“Oh? You sure about that?” His hot gaze lingered on her breasts.
Lucy caught awareness in his eyes as their stares reconnected, then tamped down an urge to cover herself and huffed, “I’m outta here.” Even though she willed them not to respond under his scrutiny, her nipples had pearled into nubs. “If you have any more questions, you know where I work.”
After snatching her bag out of his hands, she pushed past him and opened the door as his “You better not be lying to me, Lucy,” hit her ears. Her swift steps didn’t falter, even when he added, “If you are, I’ll find out. You already know that I don’t deal well with liars.”
Another trickle of fear made Lucy shiver as the door clicked shut behind her, punctuating his last word. She stashed the thumb drive inside her bag before snapping it closed, then inhaled a relieved breath, thankful to be out of that room.
Lucy would have to deal with Jack eventually, once he discovered what she’d done. If the judge revealed the news about the theft, which was highly doubtful. According to Cassie, Cardello didn’t want anyone to know the drive containing potentially incriminating evidence existed. That’s why he’d relieved her of it and deposited it in his safe in the first place.
Throwing her shoulders back, Lucy blasted through the hallway at a quick pace, slowing only upon entering the main ballroom. She’d always admired the judge’s house, a turn-of-the-century Victorian mansion that Cardello’s great-grandfather had originally built and, according to an article in Kentucky Living, had been completely refurbished. Earlier, when Lucy had stepped across the threshold of the impressive stained glass front door, she’d felt thrilled to be actually seeing a piece of history she’d read about come alive. To take part in this formal ball, even if it was only to work in order to snoop, made her believe she finally belonged.
But now she had no time for such stupid sentimentality. Ignoring the ornate wainscoting, crown moldings, and other intricately carved wood in the room the author had described that supposedly made most modern houses this big look like sterile boxes, she scanned the crowd of elegantly dressed men and women until she spotted Mike. Working her way toward him, she plotted her next move. She didn’t give a flying fig that the judge was announcing his candidacy in a matter of days, and could ill afford any negative publicity.
If Jack Finnegan hated liars so much, then why was he Cardello’s campaign manager? From all accounts, the judge would probably win his bid for governor. Lucy had experienced firsthand how corrupt the system was, a system that Cardello aided and abetted. The man certainly fit the politician’s mold—a perfect candidate for liar of the year.
And by virtue of association, what did that make Jack?
~~~
Jack waited a few minutes before opening the door after tossing out his warning—a totally wasted effort considering Lucy’s “bite me” exit. He peered through the two-inch opening and listened. No one was about.
Deciding it safe enough, he slipped out of the closet and into the deserted hallway, following the music and laughter. His long strides ate up the hardwood floor until he rounded the entrance to the main room. A swirling mass of waltzing colors engulfed him as he wound his way around bodies. He nodded to those who caught his attention, but steadfastly continued in the direction of his unobtrusive corner, where he’d spent most of the night keeping tabs on Lucy Maddox.
Near his destination, he snagged a bourbon on
the rocks from a passing waiter.
Now standing in his chosen vantage point, he took a sip, savoring the burning sensation as the cool liquid slid into his belly. Unfortunately, the drink did nothing to cool this raging fire of need that kissing her had conjured up. Goading her had been a calculated risk that had backfired. Even worse, once he realized his error, he’d found it impossible to stop himself from retaliating further because somehow, in a matter of seconds, Lucy had dug under his skin, as irritating as a chigger bite. The entire scene reminded him of their past skirmishes, and in some weird Pavlovian response, his similar desire to wipe away some of that moxie, to ruffle her emotional feathers with more goading, had only compounded the effects.
The realization was disturbing. Damned disturbing.
His gaze sought Lucy out where she stood with Mike Gillespie, and Jack watched her partner lean over and say something. When she responded with a few words then laughed, Jack’s stomach tightened. He was too far away to hear their conversation, but her throaty laughter carried across the room, despite a six-piece band playing in a nearby alcove.
Jack swigged another gulp, mulling over these unexpected and totally unwanted reactions. He considered himself a sane man, definitely not an impulsive one. Hell, he possessed immense willpower, had full control over his emotions. Who’d have thought a kiss could generate a kind of instantaneous combustion, which in turn left this need coiled inside him in the first place? It rankled even more that the kissee was Lucy-goosey, the town screw-up.
To be fair, she’d earned the nickname two decades ago, and it was probably long forgotten by most. But he remembered her as an impulsive hothead—someone who acted first, then spent time and energy trying to undo her mistake. Given her activities tonight, he highly doubted she’d changed one iota, in fact had grown more impetuous. Add to that she was also a woman, and women, in his humble opinion, didn’t belong in any business where they were apt to get themselves killed in a heartbeat. He’d seen too many of the fairer sex killed in the line of duty—one in particular—during his stint as an Assistant District Attorney in Louisville to believe anything different. The thought brought forth a memory that sent a stabbing pain through his heart. Jack lifted his glass and shoved the recent past aside with more bourbon. The last thing he needed was to be reminded of the worst six months of his life. Wanting only to forget, he concentrated instead on figuring out Lucy-goosey’s angle.
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