She snorted.
“You must have wanted me for my brilliant mind and my assessment of your—”
“Careful, Jack.”
“—situation?”
His silliness hadn’t quite brought out her smile, but it seemed to have decreased her pain to a more tolerable level. She flopped onto her bed with a groan. “I had intended to ask for your help—”
“Which I can’t give until you tell me the problem.”
“But I changed my mind.”
“Okay.”
She scowled at him as if by his agreeing with her, he’d disappointed her somehow. Women. If she suspected she could get more from him by remaining secretive, she was too damn smart. He should leave.
He approached the bed. “I said okay.”
“I heard you.”
“So if you won’t talk, I’ll just have to torture you until you do.”
“Not funny.”
“I wasn’t going for funny.”
“Go away, Jack.”
“I’m not leaving.” He sat on the bed, crowding her. When she didn’t complain about his damp jeans on her sheets, he figured she was testing him. Testing his determination. And he resented the fact that she thought so little of him that she had the need to do so. “What’s it going to be? Talk or torture?”
She scooted to the far side of the mattress. “I’ll scream if you tickle me.”
So she was still ticklish. “You know, Pest—” he resorted to calling her by the old nickname “—I’ve learned a few strategic moves during my stint in the navy.”
“I’ll just bet you have. Go away.”
“Like how to silence—”
“You wouldn’t dare—”
“—a woman with a kiss.”
“Oh, for the love of heaven. Don’t play your macho BS games with me. I’m impervious to your…charms.”
“You’re the one playing games. You’re the one who tracked me down and—”
“I didn’t find what I was looking for.”
He ignored the prick of pain at her insult. “You aren’t driving me away with your attitude.” He stood and paced. Then glanced at her. “Did I pass your test?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You wanted to know if I have staying power, right?”
“Your sexual prowess is of no interest to me.”
“You are deliberately misunderstanding.”
“Then don’t talk in double entendres.”
“Look, I still may enjoy sports and my toys—”
“And your women?”
“But you might be interested to know that I work with a team of men, highly skilled and motivated men, who trust me with their lives. So if you can’t trust me, the problem is yours—not mine.”
She whitened at his words, then lifted her chin and patted the empty spot beside her. “I suppose I deserved that. I’m sorry. It’s just that…”
“You hate asking for help? Particularly my help. But that’s what people do, you know—ask for my help.” He sat, still irked that although she’d once hung on his every word and admired his daring, now she seemed to think so little of him.
“Have you ever been fired?” she asked, then answered her own question. “Of course not. That’s why you don’t understand. In every job I’ve ever held, I’ve been commended for my hard work, for putting in the extra effort. I’ve always been the first one promoted, the first one asked to take on a difficult assignment. In other words I’m accustomed to success. So to be fired, out of the blue, is not just a kick in the teeth, it’s made me question my values and everything I believe in.”
“The world isn’t fair.”
“You may have always known that.” She spoke softly. “I didn’t.”
The hurt in her tone was real, so he forgave her her mistrust of him. He might have grown up next door to her, but while her folks were good, steady people, a cop and a teacher, his father was an alcoholic who couldn’t keep his job and had taken out his failures on his wife and son. His childhood had made Jack tough, streetwise and determined not to repeat the mistakes of his parents. And now he never drank more than two beers in a night, all too aware of the detrimental effects of alcoholism.
Piper might have been a cop, but she’d always been treated well by her parents, so she still believed that if one played by the rules, one couldn’t be hurt.
He understood better than she knew. “You had great parents who supported your choices. Who protected you.”
“Perhaps they shouldn’t have protected me quite so much.” She curled her legs beneath her, her face miserable. “Then maybe I could simply accept what happened and move on.”
He took her hand to give her an anchor. “Tell me.”
“One month before I made detective, I was on traffic duty. I stopped a civilian, a white thirty-year-old male, Vince Edwards, for speeding and ticketed him. Later he came forward and claimed I offered to accept a bribe to let him off the hook.”
Piper? Take a bribe? That was like imagining the sun wouldn’t rise in the east. She had more integrity in her pinky than most people had in their entire body.
“But you wrote the ticket?”
She nodded. “I ticketed the civilian properly, but not only did the ticket disappear from the police station’s computer files, someone altered other evidence.”
“What kind of evidence?”
“Every black and white has a GPS. The central computer tracks and logs our movements. According to the computer record, I stopped Vince and let him go within two minutes. It takes about twenty to write a ticket.”
“Surely there are duplicate paper copies?”
“Only one, and it’s gone.”
“Didn’t you videotape the stop?”
“Yes. But we don’t keep the tapes for more than a week. The citizen took a month to come forward.”
“So then what happened?”
“The department investigated and punished me by giving me a ten-day suspension.”
“You said you were fired.”
“I’m getting to that. The incident made the newspaper, and then a second citizen came forward. Leroy James, an African-American man in his mid-fifties, claimed that two years earlier I had openly hinted to him that I would be receptive to a bribe and wouldn’t write his ticket in exchange for a hundred dollars. Like I would jeopardize my career and my honor for a hundred bucks?” She sighed.
“Why did he wait so long to come forward?”
“He claimed he didn’t think anyone would believe him, but when he read about the other incident in the paper, he came forward. He took a lie detector test and passed.”
“Lots of people can beat the polygraph machine. They take drugs to calm their nerves.”
“I offered to take the polygraph test, too, but—”
“The department had to follow procedure and do a thorough investigation?”
“You got it. They didn’t have enough evidence to press criminal charges against me, but protected the department by firing me.”
“Someone went to a lot of trouble to set you up.”
She squeezed his hand. “Thanks, Jack.”
He hadn’t done anything. “For what?”
“Believing in me.”
Her sincerity touched him in a way that startled him. He wanted to gather her into his arms to console her. But Jack didn’t do the comforting thing well. He kept his relationships light, and although he wasn’t the same hell-raiser he’d once been, he stayed away from women like Piper who expected commitment. He certainly didn’t get involved in their problems. Or ever think about comforting them.
“What exactly do you want from me?” he asked, his voice rougher than he’d intended.
“I heard that the group you work with—”
“The Shey Group.”
“Looks into cases that other people won’t take. And that you have computer skills…I’d like to know how someone hacked into the police computer system.”
“Maybe they work at the police
department.”
“I thought of that. But Leslie Green, she’s in charge, assures me that none of her people have the codes or the skill to alter the memory without leaving a trace.”
“Maybe Leslie—”
“I don’t think so. She’s an old friend of my mother’s. She went out of her way to help me.”
“Maybe she’s only pretending to be a friend and carries a grudge.”
“And maybe your dad will stop drinking tomorrow.” Piper dropped his hand and covered the gasp coming out of her mouth. “I’m sorry. That was an awful thing to say. I just meant that people don’t change. I didn’t mean to…”
Jack took no offense. “Dad is what he is.”
“Still, I shouldn’t have—”
“It’s okay. I no longer believe his behavior reflects on me.”
She tilted her head, considering him. “You’ve grown stronger, more confident, and I’ve—”
“Gotten a raw deal.” He thrummed his fingers on his knee. “Even if I wanted to help, I’m not allowed to take a case on my own without clearing it with my boss.”
“I see. Is this a polite way of telling me that you’re unwilling?”
“Let me see what I can do.”
“YOU READY TO DO BUSINESS?”
The instant messaging on the computer screen had the user breaking into a fine sweat. A Google search on the Net hadn’t pulled up anything about the mysterious Shey Group. And Jack Donovan’s military record was missing. Gone. Either the dude had lied to the cop to impress her, perhaps had even made up the entire story, or someone had carefully erased all information about Jack Donovan.
However, a hacker good enough to break in to the Department of Defense had ways of finding the unfindable. Certain old friends in the military were always open to bribes. In the meantime, there was business to conduct.
The message went back over the Internet with no hint of a problem. “I was born ready.”
“You take care of the cop?”
Maybe. Maybe not. “Haven’t you heard?”
“Heard what?”
“She was fired.”
“Your doing?”
“Of course.”
“I’m impressed.”
“You’re going to be more impressed when you see what I have for you.”
“I’m waiting.”
“Have you wired the funds to my account?”
“First I need proof that you can deliver.”
“Haven’t I just done that?”
“I’m not talking about the cop, but about the data I wish to purchase.”
PIPER SLEPT SOUNDLY after her late-night conversation with Jack. Her first good night’s sleep in weeks. She wanted to believe that her exhaustion had finally taken over. Yet talking to Jack and sharing her problem had been a release of sorts. It seemed that no sooner had she closed her eyes than she was opening them to the morning sun, feeling refreshed and more relaxed than she had in a while—until she spotted Jack Donovan sitting in a chair at the foot of her bed.
She sat up, peered at him and just barely resisted pinching herself to see if she was really awake. Especially when she distinctly recalled him leaving through her window last night. “What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you to wake up.”
“Damn it, Jack. I’m not dressed and you have no—”
“Logan Kincaid said yes. And he’s sending me down some specialized equipment.”
“Huh?” She rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Why did she always wake up slightly out of sorts? A morning person she was not. And Jack’s bright-eyed twinkle only made her grumpier. “Who’s Logan Kincaid?”
“My boss. He said we can help you out pro bono.”
“I’m not a charity case. I can pay—”
“The Shey Group doesn’t take on even a simple mission for less than a million bucks.” Jack spoke gently.
A million bucks! No wonder Jack could afford that sexy silver car and the Rolex on his wrist.
Jack had always claimed he’d be a success, and now she believed him, especially if his firm charged those kinds of outrageous prices. But wealth hadn’t changed him that much—except for the price of his toys.
He’d gotten his boss to do her a favor, so why was she irritated with him? Probably because she had yet to drink her morning coffee. She didn’t function well without a jolt of caffeine.
And while she felt grubby, he’d shaved, showered and donned jeans and a shirt. Plus, he used her window like a revolving door, coming and going as if he had every right to enter her bedroom whenever he pleased.
However annoyed she might be, she couldn’t overlook the fact that he’d gone out of his way to help her. And during his vacation, too.
“Thanks, Jack. Please thank your boss for me.”
“No problem.” His gaze dropped to her legs. “You might want to dress so I’m not so distracted—then we need to talk some more.”
He couldn’t see any more leg than if she’d been wearing shorts. However, just knowing that she could distract him had her humming, and she took her time striding into the bathroom. She might not be experienced with men, but she did know how to use the assets she’d been born with.
Jack climbed back out the window. “I’ll pick you up in ten minutes.”
“Twenty.” Piper didn’t flirt—hardly ever—yet she couldn’t resist teasing Jack. “And I’ll give you another kiss if you bring me a cup of strong black coffee.”
She thought he grunted, and she grinned, pleased with herself. Twenty minutes later, dressed in a tank top, capri pants and sandals, she met Jack in her driveway. Knowing he’d want to ride with the top down, she’d tied her hair into a ponytail and wore dark sunglasses.
When he handed her a mug filled to the brim with coffee, she grinned and leaned over to kiss him. “Thanks.”
He tried to give her his cheek, but with a wider grin she reached for his jaw, turned his head and kissed his mouth, leaving a smudge of lipstick. With her thumb she wiped away the smudge.
“When did you turn into such a flirt?” he muttered, but there was no heat in his complaint.
“Can’t a girl be happy an old friend’s come back home and is willing to help her out of a jam?”
He pulled out of her drive. “We were never friends, and if you spill that coffee on my new leather seats, I will resort to torture.”
“Of course we were friends.”
“Oh, really?” He drove with the same abandon that she remembered, yet still managed to adhere to the speed limit. “I remember this flat-chested pesky kid with braces who took great pleasure in interrupting my dates.”
Piper might have developed late, but now she arched her back—in case he hadn’t noticed—showing off a curvy 36C bustline. “Watching you was much more informative than my sex-ed class. You were my best source of information,” she teased. “If not for you, I might have made it to the high school prom before I knew that kids could make love in the back seat of a car.”
He swore under his breath. “You watched?”
She chuckled. “Only until you took off her shirt. When you ducked down onto the seat—”
“And you could no longer see?”
“I got bored.”
“Thank God.” He let out an exaggerated sigh.
She patted his thigh, noting the hard muscles beneath her fingers. “But we were friends. I seem to recall how you warned off a certain seventh-grade boy from peeking at me through a hole in the wall in the girls’ locker room.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You knew about that?”
“And how you fixed my fort after the roof collapsed.”
“Mmm. Course, I had ulterior motives. I used to bring my dates there.”
“And when I was six you saved me from drowning at the beach.”
“I’m just a knight in shining armor.”
“Rusty armor.” She sipped her coffee. “Where are we going?”
“To speak to the civilians you allegedly bribed.”
“Why?”
“I want to look them in the eye, check out where they live and who they live with. And I want to gauge how they react when they see you show up on their doorstep.”
“I have files on both of them.”
“I’ll read them later. I want my first impressions to be my own.”
“Okay.” She gave him Vince Edwards’s address, which she knew from memory. Many times since her accusers had come forward she’d wanted to drive to their homes to confront them with their lies. But her union rep and her attorney had advised her against it. Listening to them had gotten her fired. And her research had never found a reason for the men to lie about her. She’d never found a motive. Or one shred of evidence that the two men had ever known one another. With nothing else to lose, she was willing to follow Jack’s lead.
He pulled up in front of an apartment complex. According to her file, Vince Edwards worked as a mechanic for a delivery company and earned about forty thousand a year. He’d never been in trouble with the law and had been married and divorced twice. Piper hoped he didn’t work on Sundays.
After climbing two flights of stairs to the third floor, Jack knocked on the door. A white-haired woman answered the door, her eyes red rimmed with tears. “Yes?”
“We’re looking for Vince, ma’am.”
“Are you a friend of his?”
“This is business.”
“I hope he doesn’t owe you money.”
“No, ma’am.”
“That’s good, because my son died last night in a car crash.”
Chapter Three
One loose thread gone. One more to tie off.
The work had to be done with the same care as carrying out a secret military operation. Piper Payne might have been fired, but as an ex-cop, whose mother was also an ex-cop, she still had connections. Killing her could have serious repercussions, repercussions that could bring law enforcement to the door. So for now, she could live and take the heat for her “crime.”
The primary concern was the man. Jack Donovan might be a real problem. After an exhaustive and fruitless search on the Net, a bribe to an old friend in Special Forces had finally produced the needed information. The Shey Group was a private, for-hire team of ex-military heroes. And Jack Donovan was their pilot.
Saving the Girl Next Door Page 3