They both eyed the puddles of water streaming across the tile floor and started laughing.
Riley grabbed several towels and dropped them on the floor. He took another, wrapping it around Jenna before taking one for himself.
“You really know how to catch a guy’s attention,” he said.
Jenna picked up another towel. She bent over and wrapped it around her wet hair. She eyed him askance as she tucked the towel into itself.
“If I recall correctly, I was having a nice leisurely bath when you decided to come in and take over the tub.”
“I didn’t hear any arguments on your part.”
She smiled. “How could I, when you looked so cute sitting among all those bubbles.” Her smile suddenly turned wobbly. “I’m scared, Riley.”
Her whispered last words sent pain shooting through his heart. He immediately gathered her into his arms.
“Go ahead, baby, let it out,” he whispered, holding her tightly.
Jenna cried. She cried for what they’d had in the beginning. She cried for the day she had left him behind. She cried for what brought him back into her life, and she cried for what they had gained and could still lose.
In between sobs she told him everything she felt. She told him how much she loved him. How she missed him all this time and she didn’t care if she was selfish, she didn’t want to give him up again.
“I know you don’t want children,” she sobbed as she lay in his arms. “I just want to be with you, Riley. All those years, I couldn’t have stopped loving you if I tried. It would have been as if I tried to stop breathing. I’m so afraid someone will try to separate us again. I don’t want that to happen.”
Riley listened to her words, feeling the same pain.
Should he tell her that he was afraid, too? Afraid that they should have left Mexico sooner. Afraid that no matter what precautions he took, there was a chance someone else would find them. Afraid that the next time they wouldn’t be so lucky.
Jenna deserved to be safe. After what happened, he didn’t trust the Witness Relocation Program. Not that it wasn’t excellent. For now he just didn’t feel it was right for Jenna.
His own life didn’t matter. He was going to do whatever was necessary to make Jenna safe. He wanted her to laugh again and he wanted her to find a way to paint again.
He framed her face with his hands.
Her eyes were red rimmed and wet with tears. Even her nose was red at the tip, and her lower lip quivered. She wore no makeup.
“You are so beautiful that I ache when I look at you,” he whispered.
If Jenna sensed he was telling her more, she didn’t show it. Her facial muscles twitched slightly before she smiled. “And it’s because you say lovely things like that, that I love you so much.”
She was still smiling when he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom.
When Jenna awoke she was alone in the bed.
Her senses told her that Riley was gone. Not just from her bed, but from the room.
She rolled over, pulling his pillow toward her. She could still smell his scent on the fine cotton.
She got out of bed and pulled on her robe, then went downstairs and headed for the kitchen.
When she stepped inside, she found Riley seated at the table. He was reading a newspaper and had a cup of coffee in front of him. He stood up when she entered.
“Don’t tell me we even have our very own paperboy all the way out here?” she said dryly.
“Actually, it’s from last summer.” He held it up so she could see the date on the first page. “I had no idea this area boasted such a wild life. They have a Fourth of July parade and carnival and everything. I’m really jealous Benedict never invited me out here.”
“He obviously knew better.” Jenna waved him to sit back down and started for the coffeepot. She poured herself a cup and sat down.
“Want some breakfast?” he asked. “I make a pretty good omelette.”
“I’d like that. But there’s something else I want you to do,” she said softly.
Riley raised an eyebrow. “Why, Smitty, I’m shocked. In the kitchen?” He looked around the room. “I guess the table would be the most comfortable.”
She gave him her “I’m being serious here” look. “Not this time, handsome. No, I want you to teach me how to shoot. I don’t want to take any chances.”
Chapter 14
“Do you know what time it is?” Dave snarled.
Riley tucked the phone between his shoulder and ear. “This is important.”
“You’re calling me here at three-freaking-o’clock in the morning because you think something is important? I don’t think so.” Dave lowered his voice. “Look, if Kate doesn’t get her full eight hours, she’s really grumpy in the morning.”
“Blame it on me.” Riley walked back and forth as if the motion helped him think better. “I want to go through the files, but I need a password.”
“You called to get my password? You couldn’t call at a normal time?”
“I got the idea now. I figured I’d call now. I thought I might see if something might jump out at me that you might not have noticed.”
Dave sighed. “Pywacket.”
“Pywacket?” Riley hooted. “Really?”
“I always thought Kim Novak in Bell, Book and Candle was one hot lady. Is there anything else you require? A computer, perhaps?”
“No, thanks, I have that part covered. I’ll let you know if I find anything.” Riley hung up.
Within moments he was using Benedict’s computer and was in the data system he required. Riley lost track of time as he scanned one file after another. He had no idea what time it was when he absently noticed a cup of steaming coffee set in front of him. As he worked, he picked it up to drink every so often. When he emptied it, it was filled again.
“So what are you looking for?” Jenna asked. She’d taken possession of a nearby chair and sat curled up in the soft depths. She held a mug filled with hot chocolate in her hands.
“I’m not really sure. But I’ll know when I find it.” Riley squinted at the screen.
“You shouldn’t be staring so close to the screen. Maybe you need reading glasses.”
“No, I don’t need reading glasses,” he said grumpily. Tapping a few keys, he paused, read what was on the screen then tapped a few more keys. At one point he sat back and just stared at the screen. “Why isn’t there anything in the files on Martin Randolph?” he murmured to himself.
“Who’s Martin Randolph?” Jenna asked.
“The nephew of a man who was executed about four years ago. Martin supposedly died in a car accident in Germany not long after that. All through the trial he was adamant his uncle, Leonard Randolph, was innocent. The evidence said otherwise,” he murmured. “When Leonard escaped from prison, I was brought in to bring him back. Before I could catch up with the bastard, he raped, tortured and murdered four teenage girls. Once captured, he was tried again and sentenced to death. Needless to say, old Leonard’s family weren’t too fond of me for bringing him back. They all stood up in court and claimed Leonard had emotional problems and needed help. The court and the psychiatrists disagreed.”
Lost in thought, Riley rocked back and forth in the chair.
“You don’t think he’s dead, do you?” Jenna asked, easily catching on to his line of thought.
He clasped his hands behind his head as shrugged. “My gut tells me he’s not. He wouldn’t be the first person to fake his own death, and his family had already washed their hands clean of him. It’s common knowledge if you have enough money you can get yourself a new identity with little problem. He had the money for it and with his ‘death’ happening in Europe, there’s no reason for anyone to think otherwise. The Randolph family was worth millions, so he had the financial resources. In his mind, he had a pretty good reason for hating me. I guess he and his uncle were pretty close.” He shook his head at the idea of someone carrying that heavy a load of hate.
He straightened up and shut down the computer. He turned to Jenna. “Time for some fresh air and shooting lessons for you.”
Jenna smiled as if he’d just granted her most heartfelt wish. She glanced down at the sweater and leggings she wore. “I’ll go change.” She pushed herself off her chair and ran upstairs.
Jenna lay on the ground. She was positive that every bone in her body was broken.
She ignored the outstretched hand for a moment. She told herself she would need his help to get to her feet.
“Is there a reason why we couldn’t have practiced these moves on a softer surface?” she groused, rubbing her bruised posterior.
“There’s no guarantee you’ll be defending yourself where there’s a thick carpet,” he told her.
“I don’t intend on falling,” she stated with a stubborn tilt to her chin.
“More power to you if you don’t.”
“Why do we have to do it out here?” she asked, fearing there might be a slight whine in her voice. “It’s cold, and the ground is so hard.”
Riley noticed the blue tint to her lips and took pity.
“Okay. Let’s take the next hour to practice your shooting, then we’ll use the workout room.” He turned and headed for the house.
“Workout room? You mean there’s a workout room in there that’s heated?” she shrieked, rounding on him with fists.
Riley laughed and picked her up, tossing her over his shoulder. “Trust me, it’s better for you working out here.”
“Balance. You have to keep your balance!” Riley shouted as he held a punching bag he had Jenna use for practice kicks. “If you don’t, you’ll end up on your butt and be a prime target.”
She spun in a tight circle, then lashed out with her foot. Riley grunted as the bag slammed into his body.
“Good. Very good.”
She lifted her hand in reply, then she half bent over with her hands resting on her knees.
Picking up her water bottle, Riley walked over and handed it to her. She grasped it tightly and seemed to inhale half the contents.
“I thought I was supposed to defend myself, not kill myself!” she wheezed.
“If you had known how to defend yourself earlier that sleaze wouldn’t have been able to get the better of you. That’s why I taught you to use your nails, your elbows, feet and knees. If someone tries to go after you, I want you to fight back with no holds barred.”
Jenna picked up a towel and mopped her face. It didn’t matter, since she could feel sweat pouring down her body. She’d pulled her hair back, but it was also matted and wet from her exertion.
For the past three days Riley had been a tyrant in teaching her to shoot and renewing their self-defense lessons.
He bullied her into a five-mile run every morning then spent two hours teaching her how to handle a weapon. In the afternoons he had her practice self-defense and a smattering of kickboxing.
All Jenna knew was that this hard regimen was wearing her out. Each night she collapsed in bed positive every muscle in her body ached. She murmured curses at Riley as he chuckled and curved his body around hers.
Jenna was grateful when Riley started spending extra hours at the computer. That meant he wasn’t trying to turn her entire body black-and-blue. Not to mention her ears ringing from the sound of the shots as she practiced hitting cans and bottles.
She just didn’t expect he had other plans for her. One morning she woke up and found a box by the bed. Riley, who had appeared with two mugs of coffee, grinned at her.
“I’ve been waiting for the right moment to give this to you. I guess this is as good a time as any.” He set the mugs on the nightstand and reached down for the box.
Jenna looked uncertain as she studied the box. There was nothing written on the sides to give her a hint as to its contents. She looked up at Riley, but he merely smiled.
“Open it,” he urged her.
She pulled back the flaps and bent them back. She looked inside and stared at the contents without saying a word.
“Since you’re not jumping up and down with joy or covering me with kisses, I guess it isn’t what you expected.” Riley watched her without any expression on his face.
Jenna slowly reached into the box and pulled out sketch pads, drawing pencils and a variety of paints. She didn’t look at him as she carefully set each item on the bed.
“Why did you get these?” she asked quietly. “And when?”
“I got them while you were buying your clothes for the colder weather. And I got them because you need to practice your painting again. There’s plenty of scenery around here for you to paint all you want.”
Jenna quickly returned them to the box and closed it back up. “I don’t paint anymore.”
Riley’s fists were on his hips. He looked off in the distance for a moment as if seeking the right words before turning back to her. “Painting is part of your soul. You can’t just stop doing what you’ve always loved.”
“Yes, I can. I taught myself that it can no longer be in my life, and I’ve done just fine without it,” she said stubbornly.
The staring contest was on, and it didn’t take long to see neither was going to give up.
“Damn, you were never this stubborn before,” Riley said, still refusing to blink.
Jenna didn’t say a word. She moved the box to one side and climbed out of bed.
She headed for the bathroom with her coffee mug in hand. As she reached the doorway, she turned around. Her eyes glistened with tears.
“The doctor said I’d probably have trouble writing my name from now on,” she whispered. “If I can’t even write my name how can you think I could draw a simple straight line?” She turned back, went into the bathroom and closed the door after her.
“Sweetheart, you can do anything you want. You just need to tell yourself that,” he murmured.
When Jenna finally ventured out of the bathroom she found Riley and the box gone. She thought the subject was finished. She should have known better.
Jenna had a quiet breakfast, while Riley closeted himself in the office. She thought of calling him a few choice names when she found a sketch pad and drawing pencils on the counter by the coffeepot. Instead she ignored their allure and fixed herself a quick breakfast. After she finished cleaning the kitchen, she carried two mugs of coffee into the office.
Riley was seated at the desk, staring at the computer monitor as if it would give him all the right answers.
Jenna set one of the mugs on the desk. She started to sit in her usual spot when she noticed the sketch pad and pencils lying on the seat. She shot him a knowing look and moved them to a nearby table.
As the morning passed, Jenna found herself looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows more and more. She could see the blue-gray surface of the lake with the stark lines of the trees dotting the edge. The longer she looked outside, the more her imagination took flight.
Old habits took over as she absently reached for the sketch pad and pencils. She looked at the scene before her and began drawing without thinking twice.
Riley could see Jenna’s reflection in the monitor. He watched her look out, then saw her head go down. Her movements were jerky, uncoordinated. Nothing like the smooth and graceful strokes he remembered from before. He could also see the raw determination etched on her face and her lips forming silent curses.
As he worked at the computer, he also kept one eye on her as she worked. He could see when frustration took over and listened to more than one pencil snap. But she never gave up. He knew if he said one word she would undoubtedly throw the pad and pencils at him. He remained silent and kept at his work.
It still didn’t stop his daydreams. He wondered what she’d think if he told her he could visualize her sitting on the beach outside his beach shack. Sitting there and drawing the little Rileys running around. He’d teach them to surf. She’d teach them to draw.
He wasn’t sure why he was thinking of them as the all-American couple raising the all-Ame
rican kids. It had never been his style before. Of course, he hadn’t reckoned on Jenna either. One thing she had proven to be was one tough cookie. If nothing else, he had to love her for that. With Jenna, he could see himself taking on the world and winning.
And every night he would go to sleep holding her in his arms. His idea of heaven.
Until then he had a job to do, and he intended to get it settled.
“If you wanted to change your identity, but make it something easy for you to remember what would you use for a name?” he suddenly spoke up.
Jenna looked up. “The name of a relative—mother’s or grandmother’s maiden name,” she said. “Maybe even a close relative’s middle name.”
Riley snapped his fingers. He tapped a few keys. “Leonard Randolph’s middle name was Carter, which was his mother’s maiden name. Like I said, they were old money.” He kept on typing. “And there’s a Carter Leonard. Age is right.” He tapped a few more keys and a photo appeared on the screen. “Hair color and style isn’t and eye color isn’t, but that’s easy enough to change. Facial structure isn’t totally the same, but that’s why plastic surgeons make the big bucks,” he said to himself.
Jenna looked more alert. “Do you think he’s the one behind all this?”
“Hard to say, but it’s worth a try. He’s living in Connecticut. He’s the head of a financial consortium which really says very little. That kind of occupation could hide any number of activities,” Riley said, reading off the screen. “He supposedly lived in Switzerland until four years ago. He arrived in New York, set up an office on Wall Street. Two years later, after amassing a notable fortune, he moved to Connecticut and set up some sort of office compound there. Financial experts from all over the world visit him there.”
Jenna got up from her chair and walked over to the desk. She looked over Riley’s shoulder, reading the words on the screen.
“Why does he keep to himself?” Riley murmured, still scrolling downward and reading. “And why does he employ such a large number of bodyguards? And have such a sophisticated security system unless he wants to keep people out?” He reached for the phone. Within moments he was connected to Dave and telling him everything he’d found. When he hung up, he was grinning from ear to ear.
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