by Angela Smith
“She’s safe,” Lillian continued. “I wouldn’t leave her if I didn’t think so. My mother said I should go out and let off steam because I’ve been so stressed over the past few weeks. Can you imagine?” Her voice weakened, her gaze narrowing as if she fought to sound as fragile as possible. She swiped a tear from her eye that Winona didn’t see. Winona figured it for an act.
“I can’t imagine,” Winona said without any inflection of compassion. Until this woman proved herself, she felt nothing but contempt.
“What is this?” Lillian asked, settling her gaze on Garret, as if she’d find the sympathy she sought with him. “Did Jake put you up to this? Or Brandon’s family? They never did like me.”
“Why don’t they like you?” Garret asked. “You seem like a very caring woman who loves her child very much.” His voice was lined like a soft tissue, oozing charm and gentleness. Damn, he was good.
Lillian shrugged and leaned against the door frame. “I don’t know why they hate me so much, but I know that’s why we never made it. Never had a chance for a good relationship with all his family interfering in our lives.”
“Is his family aware of the insurance policy you had out on Brandon?” Winona asked.
Lillian’s eyes widened and she scrutinized Winona but never met her gaze. She hugged her arms across her chest, but Winona wasn’t sure if it was to lift up her cleavage or to protect herself from Winona’s questions. “We were still married, just separated. And Jake wanted to take out an insurance policy. He had a daughter to think about. Everyone with children should have an insurance policy.”
“But she wasn’t the beneficiary.”
“So? She’s a seven-year-old child.”
“You don’t have an insurance policy. You’re the sole provider for Amy now.”
“I haven’t had time to take one out.” Lillian ogled Garret again, her mouth quivering. “What is this?” she asked, tears inflecting her voice in a pathetic attempt to soften her tone. The woman might be pretty if she wasn’t tangled up in so much jewelry and makeup. Winona could see why men would fall for her and her tricks. She wondered if Jake had in the past. Was that why he hated her so much? Maybe he’d loved her at one time but she’d married his cousin instead. Maybe she’d hurt him and now he was out for revenge. Maybe the animosity she felt for this woman was nothing but jealousy.
Jealousy? Over what? Jake? No way.
A truck rumbled down the street and parked in front of the house. “I think my date is here. It’s time for you two to go.”
“Date? I thought you were still married to Brandon,” Winona said. “You just said so.”
“We were separated. And now he’s dead. Am I supposed to just stop dating? Anyway, it’s not that kind of date.”
The truck door slammed and Lillian’s eyes narrowed. Winona whirled to see Jake storming up the sidewalk. She squinted at Lillian as dread and nausea snaked through her body.
Was Jake Lillian’s date? How had she been so foolish?
Her skin tightened, crawling with animosity as she watched his shoulders bunch under his lime-green shirt. As he loped up the sidewalk, she considered running, but no way would she give him that satisfaction. She’d caught him. He hadn’t been honest with her, and now she felt like a fool.
He stopped next to Winona and glared at her. “What are you doing here?”
“What are you doing here?” Lillian interrupted.
Winona whipped her head around to Lillian. Relief flooded Winona, ears ringing as her heart pounded. Apparently, Lillian hadn’t expected Jake, which meant he wasn’t her date.
Garret stood to the side, waiting. Winona appreciated his presence. Like a doorpost, he was steady to lean against and offered the support she needed. But she knew he could turn protective, even deadly, if the conditions called for it.
Jake sneered at Lillian. “I came to see Amy.”
“So you didn’t hire this woman to investigate me?” Lillian asked Jake.
Jake looked down at Winona, his gaze sliding into hers and nearly melting her toes. Winona straightened her spine and stood her ground. “She hasn’t accepted yet.”
• • •
Jake wasn’t sure how to feel about Winona being here, but anger fueled him. She’d done everything to refuse the job he’d asked her to do, even after he’d begged and pleaded. She’d promised she’d come with him tomorrow, but now she was here with Garret. He planned to have a talk with her later, but now wasn’t the time.
After their phone call last night, Jake had been unable to sleep. He’d paced, he’d read, he’d prayed. Finally, he got out of bed and started driving. He’d called Chayton early this morning and apologized for being unable to make their trip, never expecting to see Winona standing at Lillian’s door. They’d talked about coming together, but he hadn’t wanted to bother her in the middle of the night and he wanted to do this by himself. He wanted to see Amy for the first time on his own so he could break down privately.
“Where’s Amy?” he asked Lillian.
Garret stood by the door, silent and watchful like a nighthawk waiting to pounce on its prey. Jake wasn’t sure at the moment who was the prey. Jake hadn’t officially met Garret, but he recognized him from his research on Winona.
“With her grandmother,” Lillian answered. “And I was just heading out when your friends accosted me.”
“Headed out where?” Looked to him like wherever she was going involved a huge party. He didn’t like that Amy had just been found, was probably still scared out of her mind, and her mother planned to go out drinking, dancing, and no telling what else. He’d always known she was a selfish woman, but the fact she was leaving her child alone with a grandmother she barely knew bothered him, especially because right now he could do nothing about it.
“Like I told your friends here, that’s none of your concern.”
“It is my concern when Amy is in danger.”
“She’s no longer in danger.”
“She’s always in danger where you’re concerned.”
Lillian flicked her hair, the bangles of bracelets she wore on her arm snapping down her forearms. “Oh, Jake, get over yourself.”
“I want to see Amy.”
“Today is no good. She’s hanging out with her grandmother. She’s fine. She’s been playing a lot. Hasn’t even asked for you or her dad.”
Jake stepped forward, his fury rising. Garret perched a hand on his arm. Nonthreatening, but warning him to stay calm. Winona took his hand in hers. He wasn’t sure why she did it, but he clenched hers and didn’t let go.
“We’ll settle this another time,” Winona told Jake. “Let’s have lunch and talk about things.”
“I’m not leaving until I see Amy.”
“Amy isn’t here,” Lillian said.
Jake narrowed his eyes at Lillian. She lifted her chin higher. He wrenched his hand out of Winona’s grip and faced her. Better to take his anger out on her instead of pummeling Lillian and possibly getting his assed kicked by Garret. “You lied to me.”
“You lied to me. Told me you were going with Chayton today. I never told you my plans.”
“I said I was considering going with Chayton today. You only assumed.”
“And I assumed we would be coming here tomorrow, together.”
“Then why are you here now?” Jake asked.
“Can you continue this lover’s quarrel away from my front porch, please?” Lillian asked.
White-hot fury propelled him forward, toward Lillian, but again, Garret grasped him by the arm and pulled him back. Jake fisted his hands at his sides and stepped back. Garret dropped his hand.
“Lillian.” Garret’s voice was weighted with authority and command, demanding attention. Everyone stopped to listen, turning to watch him. “Jake would like to see Amy so he can feel better about knowing she’s okay. He’s tense right now because he’s worried about her. Will you allow him to have breakfast with her tomorrow? Can we pick her up in the morning and spend the day with
her?” Garret’s words were too pure, too smooth, and Jake looked at him in disbelief. Was this guy for real?
Lillian flustered under Garret’s gaze. Even if he wasn’t for real, whatever he was doing seemed to be working.
She swept her hair out of her eyes and fluttered her lashes. Nausea pulled at Jake’s stomach. He supposed she’d try to seduce Garret now. Garret looked carved from steel and as far as Jake knew, was happily married, so he doubted Lillian could affect the man. But Jake had been surprised before.
“Yes, sure, of course.”
“Great,” Garret said. He handed her a card and wrote something on the back. “That’s my number. I’ll call you in the morning so we can arrange it. Is nine a.m. okay to call?”
In other words, would she still be hung over? Or at least, that was what Jake would have asked.
“Yes, yes. I’ll talk to you then. Thanks for stopping by.”
Garret shook her hand. Winona nodded and turned away.
“See you tomorrow,” Garret called.
Jake followed Winona, stopping at a black four-door sedan parked next to his truck. He grabbed her hand before she could open the door and hide inside.
“What the hell?” Jake asked.
“We’re going to lunch now,” Winona said. “We have things to discuss.”
“Jake, stay calm,” Garret warned. “We’ve arranged it so you get to see Amy tomorrow.”
“Oh, you’ve arranged it?” Jake spat. Garret barely knew him and Jake knew he should feel grateful, but right now animosity fueled him. “And what the hell are you doing here?”
“Trying to help your ass,” Winona said. “I wanted to talk to Lillian before I decided if I’d take the job. Garret came along for back-up.”
“And you didn’t bother telling me?”
“No,” she said as she opened the passenger door, vehemence punctuating her movements.
“Why not?”
“Because I didn’t want you to know.”
Chapter Nine
Jake followed them to the hotel. Winona knew he wanted to talk, but she didn’t give him a chance. She went inside before he had a chance to park, and bolted to her room.
She wasn’t ready to discuss anything with him. Not yet.
Fifteen minutes later, she received a text from Jake: Am I not invited to lunch?
She called Reagan to ask if they were ready for lunch and if they would mind if Jake accompanied them.
“Not at all. But if you’d rather have some alone time with him—”
“No. I want you and Garret to come.”
“Okay. We’ll meet you in the lobby in fifteen minutes.”
She texted Jake that info, and then waited eighteen minutes and twenty-three seconds before she went to the lobby, relieved to see Garret and Reagan had already arrived. They stood talking to Jake. Winona stopped beside Reagan and glanced at Jake, but he didn’t even glance at her.
“Hey, girl,” Reagan said as she hooked her arm through Winona’s. “We thought we might try the restaurant in this hotel. They have a good selection. If that’s okay with you.”
“That’s great. Where’re Nick and Diana?”
“They aren’t coming. You ready?”
The men followed and chatted; Winona had no idea what they discussed. Jake hadn’t said hello to her, barely looked at her.
They sat, ordered water and tea, and Winona smoothed her napkin in her lap while Reagan and Garret continued chatting with Jake.
Hostility lined Jake’s gaze every time he glanced at Winona, which was rarely seeing as how he was obviously doing his best to ignore her. That was fine because she’d just as soon ignored him, too. Her stomach tightened as he regaled Garret and Reagan with stories of his triathlon training and listened as they told him about Tanyon.
He seemed intrigued about their story on how they met, with Garret being an undercover FBI agent investigating Reagan, and about her innocence. At least it gave them something to talk about besides Jake’s problems.
Winona had plans to ask him about a few of those problems as soon as they were alone.
Lunch took less than an hour. Once done, they stood in the lobby and continued to chat. Winona noticed Jake tried to look relaxed, but his jaw was tense, his shoulders stiff. His glances toward her remained hostile, as if he couldn’t wait to get her alone and chew her out.
“We’re going to go roam the town,” Reagan said as they made their way toward the elevator. “Any of you want to join us?”
“Not me,” Winona said as she lingered with people awaiting the elevator. She wanted to dart out of here as quickly as possible. “You go ahead. I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Thanks for everything,” Jake said as he shook Garret’s hand. When he extended his hand to Reagan, she ignored it and went in for a hug.
“Do you have a place to stay for the night?” she asked as she stepped away.
The elevator whooshed open. People exited, others entered.
“I managed to get a room here while I waited,” Jake said.
“Great. Well, call us if you need anything.”
Winona ducked into the elevator and the doors closed before Jake had a chance to react.
She breathed a sigh of relief once she was shut in her room.
She kicked off her shoes and paced, dwelling on her reaction to Jake. She had questions, and she didn’t care how angry he was about her visit. Either her visit to Jackson and Lillian or to his hotel room, if only she could figure out his room number.
She stepped out of her room, but an empty hallway met her. She retreated to the room and paced, fumbling with the blinds as she glanced outside. Her phone buzzed, a text from Jake telling her his room number and asking for hers. She ignored him, using the time to brush her hair, change into comfortable clothes, and refresh her makeup. Hoping enough time had passed to either have him calm down or ignite his fury—and make him wonder about her—she went to his door.
He answered it wearing no shirt. She rolled her eyes and trundled through the doorway, leaving him to shut the door. She wondered if he’d worn no shirt on purpose.
His room was a suite, with a living area, kitchen, a table with four chairs, and the sleeping area all in one large room. She sat at one of the chairs.
“Nice of you to tell me your plans.” Jake wasted no time.
“It was none of your business, Jake. You asked me to take a job and I had to do my research.”
“And what did you discover with your research?” Jake pulled out a chair and sat opposite her.
“Nothing. Unfortunately, you interrupted.” Her chest swelled in doubt. Her ears prickled in anticipation of the answers she might not want to hear after the questions she had to ask.
“Why did you lie to me and tell me you were spending the day with Chayton? We were supposed to come here together tomorrow.”
“Why did you lie to me?”
“Don’t evade my question. You know I had a reason to lie.”
“You did?”
“Yes. If I take a job, I can’t be honest with everyone, now can I?” She straightened her shoulders and studied him. “Tell me, what is your relationship with Lillian?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I mean that if I’m going to take this job, I have to know everything.”
“You do know everything. I don’t trust her, I think she killed my cousin, and I’m worried about Amy.”
“Are you worried about Amy because she’s your cousin’s child, or are you worried about her because she’s yours?”
• • •
Jake shot out of his chair. It crashed to the floor. White-hot fury attacked his temples, jarring his ability to respond for a fraction of a second.
Un-fucking-believable.
“What do you mean by that?” he asked.
“It’s a simple question.”
“No, she’s not my child. I’m her godfather. Her dad was … he was more than my manager.” His voice cracked. He raked a hand t
hrough his hair.
Brandon had always told Jake he’d become the sports manager he was because of Jake, but Jake swore he’d become the athlete he was because of Brandon. They were like brothers, the very best of friends, and he’d never soil his relationship with Brandon for any woman. Especially a callous, heartless woman like Lillian.
Lillian was exactly the type of woman he would have chosen in his drug-induced party days. He wondered if that was why he resented her and if, deep inside, he resented Brandon for that weakness. For choosing someone who had an addiction as if he could fix her as he’d “fixed” Jake.
She was egotistical, selfish, and didn’t put anyone’s needs before her own. Exactly as Jake had been in the past. Though her gambling addiction might not be physical, it still affected her life and those who cared about her.
He’d tried to warn Brandon away, but Brandon had fallen for her charm like half the men in this world who were craving attention from a needy woman. Brandon had enjoyed feeling needed and appreciated, and she gave him that tenfold.
“I never had that kind of relationship with Lillian. Didn’t have a relationship with her at all. I didn’t like her from the moment I met her. I thought she was bad news. Bad for Brandon.”
“Sit down, Jake.” Winona stood and retrieved the chair from the floor, readjusting it and patting the seat before returning to the other side of the small table.
He puffed out a breath and sat, dumping his head in his hands and urging the heat behind his eyes to stay dry. He did not want Winona to see him cry. But the emotions he’d held onto for so long, seeing Lillian today and not seeing Amy, he couldn’t hold on any longer. His throat ached, his eyes burned, and his shoulders shook as he cried silent tears.
He felt her hands on the back of his neck and shoulders, softly rubbing and kneading but not speaking. He appreciated that about her. He didn’t want or need words of comfort or pity. He wanted to grieve without feeling like a dumb fuck, like he wasn’t allowed to cry, wasn’t allowed any emotion. Like he was supposed to pick up his life and move on. Be a positive thinker, and all that crap.