Secret Hearts

by Radclyffe

  “Trouble for who, Ty?” Jordan couldn’t argue about Kip and secrets, since Ty had only said what she’d just been thinking. All the same, she had a feeling the two of them were talking about very different things.

  Ty wrapped her arms around her body. “Did they ask any questions about…us?”

  “You and me?” Jordan frowned. “No. They knew my name, which I thought was strange, but they only seemed intent on taking Kip. They didn’t bother me at all.”

  “What about me?”

  “No. Why would they even know you’re here?”

  “No reason,” Ty said quickly.

  “Look, we’re friends, right? If there’s something going on, we should deal with it together.” Jordan squeezed Ty’s arm. Her body was rigid as steel. “Let me help.”

  “I’m not legal,” Ty said quickly.

  “You’re not…” Jordan struggled to assimilate that news. “But you’ve got a Social Security number and you pay taxes. I know, I file them for you.”

  “Nothing like paying taxes right on time to make you just another number in the system, as long as the taxes aren’t too high or too low.” Ty smiled wryly. “Anyone can get a Social Security number if you know the right people.”

  Jordan leaned back against the fence. “Okay, I’m not all that up on this…I mean, what about your kids? Your mother?”

  “My children are United States citizens. They were born here. But I wasn’t, and neither was my mother.” Ty sighed. “And we didn’t get here legally.”

  “And isn’t there any way to…get legal status?”

  “None that are easy or guaranteed.” Ty’s eyes filled. “We have a life, the kids and my mother and I. I haven’t wanted to take the chance of announcing my undocumented status and then finding out I’d have to leave in order to try to immigrate legally.”

  “God, what a mess. And the kids?”

  “What would I do? Leave them here? With who? Or take them back to a world they don’t know?”

  “Living like this has to be so scary.”

  Ty grimaced. “You never really forget about it, but after a while, life just goes on. If I had to leave, what would I do?”

  “Look, there’s no reason to think whatever’s going on with Kip has anything to do with us.”

  “But what if they start looking into the project, into us, because she’s here? I have to quit right now.”

  “What? No!” Jordan gripped Ty’s shoulders, afraid she’d bolt and disappear. “Let me find out what’s going on. As soon as I’ve talked to her, I promise you, I’ll get all the information.”

  “Can you trust her to tell you the truth?”

  Jordan didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

  Ty studied her, worry aging her smooth features. “All right. I trust you, and if you trust her, I’ll wait. If it’s all right with you, I’d rather not come to work for a while.”

  Jordan hugged her. “Oh, Ty, I’m so sorry this is happening. Of course. Do what you need to do.”

  “I’m sorry I’m leaving you with all this work right now.”

  Jordan waved her off. “It doesn’t matter. I can take care of things here. And maybe Kip will be back today, and we can straighten all this out. I’ll call you, all right?”

  Ty nodded. “I’m taking the kids and their grandmother to a friend’s. Just in case.”

  “Keep your cell on, okay? I’ll call you as soon as I know anything.”

  “I’m really sorry about this, Jordan. I never meant to deceive you.”

  “I know that, and it doesn’t change anything between us.” Jordan squeezed her tight. “Be safe and take care of your family. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  As soon as Ty left, Jordan went directly to the trailer and booted up her computer. It was time to find out who Kip Kensington really was. She stared at the blank screen, willing herself to type in Kip’s name. She’d never looked up herself or anyone she knew. She hated the idea of searching for pieces of someone’s life on the internet. The invasion of privacy was unbearable, but there was more at stake now than her own discomfort or even Kip’s privacy.

  Deliberately, she typed Kip’s name.

  Nothing popped up. Of course.

  Catherine Kensington brought up pages of entries.

  Catherine Wells Kensington. The birth date listed checked out. Jordan smiled inwardly. As she’d guessed, almost fifteen years to the day younger than her, as if that mattered now. She scanned various other names and news items, found a few with photos of Kip. No mistaking her identity. The Kensington family was a large and apparently famous one. Kip’s ancestors had been part of the early industrialization of the country and had manufactured everything from steam engines to air conditioners. The present Kensington Corporation was a vast international conglomerate involved in all kinds of global enterprises. Nothing came up regarding Kip’s official status at the company, but Jordan imagined she held some kind of position, since all the Kensington family apparently did.

  Items referencing a brother, Randolph, were mostly social entries and entertainment articles. A series of archived news reports also detailed the death of Kip’s mother. Jordan took a breath and clicked through them.

  Carolyn Kensington, age thirty-five, had drowned in a sailing accident after her skiff capsized in rough waters off Long Island Sound during a freak storm. Her two children managed to cling to the overturned boat until they were rescued. Kip had been ten years old.

  “Oh, Kip,” Jordan murmured. She closed her eyes, trying not to visualize a young Kip suffering such terror after having lost her mother so horribly. Jordan understood the ravages of loss. There was no way to quantify or compare the losses of loved ones, but at least she’d been an adult when her father died, and she hadn’t witnessed his death.

  Jordan closed the browser and spun around in her chair, needing to see the beginnings of life and the late morning sun through the open trailer door. Needing the warmth when she was so cold inside. She willed Kip to walk back through the garden gate. Nothing seemed right without her.

  *

  Kip knew better than to ask for an explanation from her companions and wasn’t surprised when the agent beside her was silent as stone while the one driving maneuvered them through Manhattan traffic. She didn’t bother asking where they were going. He wouldn’t tell her that either. When they pulled into an underground garage, she waited for him or his partner to open her door. Her door handle would not be functional from the inside, the childproof lock concept repurposed for prisoners. Whatever name they put to what was happening—questioning, briefing, interview—she was still a prisoner. There were all kinds of cages, and this nameless concrete building was just another version. When she stepped out, she couldn’t place their location. Rows of official-looking vehicles filled the spaces along the wall adjacent to an elevator.

  “This way, please,” the sandy-haired agent said politely.

  She followed along into the elevator and watched the numbers as it climbed to the sixth floor. They directed her down a bland, featureless corridor carpeted in trendy gray, an agent on either side of her, until they reached one of a dozen identically unmarked doors and the taller agent knocked.

  He touched his ear, nodded, and said, “You may go in.”

  He held the door open and Kip stepped inside. Three men in suits sat on the opposite side of a long, modern-looking conference table facing her. They ranged in age from midforties to early sixties, all with similar neutral expressions. The man in the middle, a dark-haired, fit-looking fifty, indicated a chair across from them. “Ms. Kensington, please have a seat.”

  Kip remained standing. “If you’d told me you wanted to talk to me, I would have been happy to oblige. However, considering the circumstances, I prefer not to speak with you without my attorney present.”

  “Given the sensitive nature of our discussion, I’m afraid your right to an attorney does not apply. Please have a seat.”

  Ice slithered down Kip’s spine. Were they really citing the Patri
ot Act? No one knew where she was. Theoretically, they could keep her here or incarcerate her for as long as they wanted. Memories of the cell, the isolation, the depersonalization flooded through her. For an instant, the magnitude of her powerlessness left her weak.

  But she wasn’t weak. She’d faced far greater threats than these men could present. She’d watched death claim the most important person in her world and refused to let go when death came for her. Nothing could ever threaten her as much as that morning when the skies had turned black, the wind had come up out of nowhere, the sails had torn from the mast, and waves taller than her house carried her mother away.

  “What exactly am I doing here?”

  “Your recent arrest calls your position with us into question.”

  “Why is that?” Kip said, refusing to buy into their paranoia.

  “Considering the nature of the project,” the younger agent, a redhead with an incongruous sunburn he probably got from spending time on the golf course and not paying attention to the spring sun, said flatly, “we want to ensure there hasn’t been a breach of security.”

  “What, you think I was discussing engine design with my fellow cellmates in county lockup?”

  “We’re actually more interested in what your brother might have discussed.”

  Kip gritted her teeth. What the hell? “Randy isn’t involved with the project, you all know that.”

  The third man shrugged. “Not directly, perhaps. But he is your brother, and he is potentially privy to the company’s projects through any number of avenues. His recent…activities…of which you were a part clearly constitute a security risk.”

  “Look, I don’t discuss high-security projects with anyone, especially not Randy. Neither does anyone else. Your department spent a year looking at me before I got my clearance.”

  “While your previous evaluations suggested no problem areas, your arrest requires examination.”

  Kip shook her head. No way were they going to keep her here indefinitely, and she wasn’t going to tell them a damn thing about Randy. “Not without a lawyer.”

  Check.

  The one doing most of the talking, the friendly good-cop player, nodded as if he agreed. “We’re trying to be reasonable, so you have a choice. You can either explain the circumstances concerning your conviction, or we can interrupt your brother’s stay at the Glendale Center. I’m sure if we offer to arrange his permanent release, he’ll be happy to cooperate.”

  Checkmate. Kip sat down.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Five o’clock came and went, and no word from Kip. Jordan left two messages on her phone and couldn’t think of anything else to do after that. She sat in the trailer, more alone than she’d felt in a long time. Ty was gone, Kip was gone, and the garden had never seemed so quiet. Try as she might, she couldn’t make sense of the day.

  She’d started the morning with a kiss she could no longer pretend she hadn’t wanted, and for a few brief moments, she’d imagined more. Another kiss, a whole series of kisses, and touches that went beyond the surface to a place she’d kept hidden from everyone, even herself, for so long she’d forgotten the exhilaration of true connection. She’d been ready, almost, if she didn’t think about the long term too much, to open those doors for Kip. For a few hours, she’d been ready to dream. Now Kip had disappeared as quickly and mysteriously as she’d appeared, and Jordan had no way of knowing if she’d ever return. After all, Kip was only here on hiatus from a life Jordan knew nothing about. A life where the sudden appearance of stone-faced men with badges was normal.

  And now that world, Kip’s other life, had spilled over into her world here at the garden—her world and Ty’s.

  God, Ty. How horrible to have to live with the fear of losing everything at any moment. And not just Ty’s way of life was at risk, but her children’s future and her mother’s security as well. Ty would have worked within the system if there’d been a way for her to do it without risking everything, if the odds hadn’t been so unfairly against her. But once she exposed herself and admitted her secret, she’d be vulnerable and powerless and at the mercy of an unfriendly, antiquated, and sadly biased system. No wonder she was terrified.

  Jordan had experienced firsthand the devastation wrought by a system that left human beings out of the equation. She couldn’t think of Ty without thinking of her father. He must have felt so much the same when faced with losing the farm, knowing his wife’s security and his daughter’s future would be altered forever. His very identity had been tied to that land and its history, something Jordan understood all too well. She’d been adrift ever since her roots had been so mercilessly torn from the earth and stripped of life. She hadn’t been able to help her father, but somehow, she had to do something to help Ty. If only she knew what. She’d have to find someone who knew—

  An alert tone blasted from her cell and she grabbed it off the desk, staring at the red weather warning. No, that couldn’t be right. Frost alert? That couldn’t be possible. She bolted from the chair and went outside to stand on the steps of the trailer. The sun was on its way down and the air temp felt at least ten degrees cooler than it had when she’d gone inside just a little while earlier. But frost? This late in the season? No.

  She checked the weather reports daily, studied the ten-day forecast every morning over coffee, had multiple weather apps on her phone. None of them had said anything about frost. This had to be a mistake. Spinning around, she went back inside and opened her web browser.

  Every weather site said the same thing—after the weather mumbo jumbo was deciphered, the result was the same everywhere. A cold front blowing from the north that had been expected to spin out hundreds of miles away had refused to die, and now it was picking up speed. When the low-pressure front pushing ahead of it hit the warm moist air sitting above them now, the entire northern seaboard was looking at a hard frost. A killing frost for young plantings.

  “God.” Jordan jumped up, panic grabbing her by the throat. So much to do, and the sun was almost down. She needed to get everything secured by eight at the latest. She needed Ty now, and she couldn’t ask her to come back. She was on her own.

  She raced to the garden shed, knowing before she got there what she would find. Not enough.

  Not enough warning. Not enough equipment. Not enough time.

  She stood in the shed doorway as the sun went down behind her, her heart sinking. Must everything that mattered always end this way—with her alone, helpless and heart bleeding.

  Enough self-pity too, damn it. She could do this. She would do this. Somehow.

  Her phone buzzed again and she dug it out of her pocket. Unknown caller. She stared, angry at the tiny spurt of hope. Happy endings were not in her forecast. The phone kept buzzing.

  Heart pounding, she swiped answer. “Yes?”

  “Hey, it’s me.”

  “Kip!” Jordan struggled to catch her breath. “Where are you, are you all right?”

  “Yeah, I’m okay. Long afternoon, long story.”

  “You don’t sound all right.” She sounded frighteningly beaten and defeated, and not like Kip at all.

  “Oh,” Kip said, her voice oddly flat and distant. “It’s me. This is my other self. The less charming and sexy one.”

  Jordan laughed, hearing the unsteadiness in her voice. “I call bullshit on that. You’re always charming and sexy. Where are you?”

  “In a tavern downtown. I was thinking about having a drink. I don’t suppose you want to keep me company…”

  “Oh, Kip, I can’t.” Jordan scanned the garden. Kip sounded so vulnerable. What if Kip needed her and she wasn’t there? What if…no, that was crazy. Kip was not her father. “I would, I want to, but there’s a problem here. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Is there someone else you can call—”

  “What sort of problem?” Kip’s voice was suddenly sharper.

  “Frost warning.”

  “Frost? Frost like really cold? Cold enough to kill the plantings?”

&nbs
p; “If it gets down to what they’re predicting, yes. So I’ve got a lot to do and I don’t have much time.”

  “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

  Relief washed through her. She didn’t even try to pretend she didn’t want her to come. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t ask you, but—”

  “Jordan, I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

  “Thank you, I’m sorry, I know it’s a terrible imposition.”

  “It’s not. Not if I’m with you.”

  “Thank you,” Jordan said again.

  She pushed the phone into her pocket, ignoring the spurt of hope. She still didn’t have enough time or enough equipment, but Kip was coming. She wouldn’t be alone and neither would Kip. That was a start, at least.

  Kip arrived twelve minutes later, striding through the garden gate as the security lights around the perimeter clicked on. She wore the same khaki work pants, T-shirt, and denim jacket she’d come to work in. She grinned when she saw Jordan. “Did anyone order a couple more hands?”

  Jordan rushed over and grasped her shoulders. “Are you really all right? Because I’m taking shameless advantage and I know it.”

  “Oh, if only you were,” Kip replied straight-faced, but her eyes were dancing. “Don’t worry about me. Tell me what I should do.”

  “Never mind that for one minute.” Jordan brushed her fingers through Kip’s hair. Even in the yellowish glow of the security lights she could make out the shadows under her eyes. She kissed her swiftly. “I was worried half out of my mind.”

  Kip’s arms came around her, and some of the cold that had slowly been making its way through her bones disappeared. Kip’s breath was warm against her ear.

  “Do that again when we’ve got all the little seedling babies safe and sound, why don’t you,” Kip murmured.

  Jordan laughed and pressed her face against Kip’s throat. Kip’s skin was hot. An erratic pulse hammered beneath Jordan’s mouth. “It might be a long night.”