The Littlest Stowaway

by Gina Wilkins

  Casey stared first at the stranger, then at Steve. “What...?”

  “Casey Jansen, this is Blake,” Steve told her gently. “The P.I. I’ve been trying to reach.”

  “But I thought you haven’t been able to contact him yet.”

  “I haven’t.” Steve looked inquiringly at the other man.

  Blake shrugged matter-of-factly. “I got word you were looking for me. From what your friend here said, I take it you’ve got yourself a situation that requires my expertise?”

  “You could say that.” His left arm still around Casey, Steve extended his right hand to Blake. “Thanks for coming. It’s good to see you again.”

  The warmth with which Blake returned the handshake told Casey he considered Steve a friend. “It’s been too long.”

  “Come in. Let me get you something to drink while we talk. Casey, are you coming in?”

  She still wanted to escape for clean clothing and a few hours of solitude to put everything into perspective. But she was compelled to stay and find out what Blake suggested they do about Janice and Annie.

  She moved away from Steve’s arm and headed toward his house. “I want to hear this,” she said over her shoulder.

  She would concentrate on Janice’s problems for now, she decided, and postpone her own for later. Which meant she would not dwell on the elation she felt hearing Steve say he was “crazy” about her.

  Annie was still sitting in the carrier on Steve’s coffee table, but she was beginning to squirm and fuss. Casey released the safety straps and lifted the baby into her arms, soothingly patting her back.

  Blake looked at the baby in curiosity. “Yours?” he asked, glancing from Casey to Steve.

  Though it was a natural assumption, especially considering Steve’s earlier comment, Casey felt her cheeks warm anyway.

  “No,” Steve answered. If he was at all disconcerted by the question, he didn’t allow it to show. “This is Annie. She’s half the reason we called you.”

  “Is that right?” Blake stepped closer to Casey and touched a fingertip to Annie’s soft cheek. “She’s tiny, isn’t she?”

  “We think she’s only a few days old. Less than a week, probably,” Casey said.

  Blake seemed fascinated by the baby. “My wife and I are expecting our first in a few months,” he explained.

  “No kidding?” Steve grinned. “I find it hard to picture you as a married man with a kid. Quite a difference from the footloose bachelor I used to know.”

  “Things change,” Blake said with a shrug. “Tara and I have been married for a little more than two years now. I’m still working as an investigator, but I don’t travel as much as I did before. I confine my cases mostly to the Atlanta area. That’s where we live.”

  Casey thought it was obvious that Blake was quite content with his life now. She found it interesting that he’d been willing to drop everything and leave his pregnant wife behind when he’d heard that Steve needed him. Just how big a favor had Steve done for this guy?

  “Can I get you something to drink, Blake?” Steve offered as Casey settled into the rocker with the baby.

  “Got any coffee?”

  “I’ll make a fresh pot. It’ll only take a few minutes. Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back.”

  Blake settled on the couch when Steve left the room. He moved with a grace that Casey couldn’t help but admire. His beautifully tailored pale blue shirt and pleated gray slacks emphasized his slender, wiry build. Uncomfortably aware of her own wrinkled, casual clothes, Casey suspected that some women would find Blake irresistible. While she wasn’t entirely immune to his attraction, she secretly preferred Steve’s more rugged, earthy appeal

  “I’m sorry I startled you outside,” Blake said. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  “I should have given you a chance to introduce yourself before I attacked you,” she replied. “I mistook you for someone else.”

  “You mentioned the names Park and Claybrook. Did you mean Frank Claybrook?”

  Casey felt her eyes widen. “I think that was the name he used. Do you know him?”

  “There’s a Frank Claybrook who works as a P.L out of St. Louis. He’s a former prizefighter who doesn’t have a lot of scruples about his methods.”

  “Sounds like the guy I met,” Steve said from the doorway. “What about Walter Park? Is that a name you know?”

  “There’s an investigator named Park who’s based in Springfield, Missouri. Could be the same one, maybe. I don’t know every P.I. in the area,” Blake admitted with a faint smile.

  Steve glanced over his shoulder. “Coffee’s ready. I’ll be right back.”

  Blake waited until Steve returned with a tray holding three cups of coffee before asking any more questions. He took an appreciative sip, nodded his approval and then said, “Okay. Shoot.”

  As succinctly as possible, Steve told him the whole story. Casey spoke up only to add a detail about the phone call she had received at home.

  Blake sipped his coffee, looking as if he was hardly paying attention to the tale, but Casey suspected he didn’t miss a word. He didn’t ask any questions or make any comments until Steve had finished. “Is there anything else?” he asked.

  Casey looked at him in surprise. “Isn’t that enough?”

  His mouth quirked into a crooked smile. “Yes, it’s definitely enough. I was just asking if there is anything else I should know.”

  “Not that I can think of,” Steve said. “So, what do you think?”

  Blake lifted an eyebrow. “I think you’ve gotten yourself into a real mess here.”

  Steve rolled his eyes. “Is that your professional opinion?”

  “Mmm. How many people know you’ve got the baby?”

  “As far as we know, only Madelyn, my office manager, and B.J., a company pilot. My neighbor knows there’s a baby here—I borrowed a bassinet from her and told her I was baby-sitting for a sick friend.”

  “She didn’t find that odd?”

  Steve shrugged. “I don’t usually baby-sit, but I have sort of a reputation for doing favors for my friends.”

  Chuckling, Blake shook his head. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “Anyway, that’s everyone I can think of. You haven’t told anyone, have you, Casey?”

  “You know I haven’t.” Casey answered Steve’s question with a frown.

  He nodded. “I was just saving Blake the trouble of asking.”

  Blake glanced at the baby again. “How long are you planning to keep Annie here?”

  Again, it was Steve who answered. “We had originally agreed to call the authorities if we hadn’t located Janice by this evening. Casey’s first instinct was to call the police immediately when we found Annie, but Madelyn, B.J. and I talked her into waiting.”

  “I only wanted to do what was best for Annie,” Casey said a bit defensively. “At the time, I thought the best thing was to turn her over to child protective services.”

  “You’ve changed your mind?” Blake asked.

  As Annie nestled more snugly into her shoulder, Casey sighed. “It may still be the sensible thing to do, but I’m not sure I can turn her over now. She’s just getting settled here. To give her to strangers, move her from place to place without knowing when, or if, she’ll be reunited with her mother—well, I’m just not sure I can accept that now.”

  “So what we have to do,” Blake said almost casually, “is find her mother.”

  Steve nodded. “That’s where we hope you can help us.”

  “I can’t guarantee that I’ll find her by tonight. What are you going to do with the kid tomorrow if it takes me a couple of days?”

  Steve looked at Casey. She almost groaned. Of the two of them, she knew she was the most able to take a day off from work. She had people to run her operation in her absence, and the paperwork and management decisions that were her responsibility could be postponed or handled off-site. Steve’s company was so small that his daily presence was more crit
ical. He didn’t have backups available to take over his duties as owner, manager, pilot and instructor. She should, of course, tell him that was his problem—maybe even take advantage of the opportunity to score a few business points against him.

  Annie stirred and mewed, making Casey’s momentary ruthlessness evaporate. How could she abandon this baby now? And how could she use Steve’s own generosity against him? Though she suspected that was exactly what her father would have done, what he would have expected her to do, she simply couldn’t do it

  Sorry, Dad. Looks Like I’m going to disappoint you again.

  “I can stay here and watch her for as long as you need me tomorrow,” she said quietly.

  The warmth in Steve’s smile lit an answering fire deep inside her. “Thank you, Casey,” he murmured.

  Blake looked from one of them to the other. “So you two are...?”

  “Competitors,” Casey supplied quickly.

  “Close friends,” Steve amended. “Very close friends.”

  Casey thought about strangling him. Blake would have to be stupid not to figure out that something was going on between her and Steve. And Blake was not a stupid man.

  Fortunately, he seemed to be a discreet one. He asked no more personal questions, but turned the conversation back to Janice. “Is there anything else you can tell me about her?”

  Both Steve and Casey explained how little they had known about the young woman who’d worked for them. “I’ve followed every trail I could think of,” Steve added. “I got nowhere.”

  Blake didn’t seem overly concerned. “I’ll find her.”

  “If—when you do.” Steve corrected himself, “bring her to us. Whatever it is she’s running from, we’ll help her.”

  Blake glanced at Casey. “You feel the same way?”

  “Of course,” she answered, almost annoyed that he had asked. Was Blake, like so many others, misinterpreting her natural reserve for coldness?

  He gave her a nod that seemed to express approval. “Looks like Janice had good reason to believe she was putting her baby in safe hands.”

  Casey didn’t tell him that Janice had technically left the child with Steve, not her. She saw no need to mention it at the moment—especially since she’d become as entangled in this situation as Steve. And almost as willingly.

  Blake set his empty mug on the coffee table and stood. “I’ll be in touch when I have something for you.”

  “Just like that?” Casey asked.

  He smiled at her. “Remind me sometime to tell you about the favor Steve once did for me.”

  He leaned over to bring his face into Annie’s line of view. “See you later, beautiful. And I’ll have your mom with me when I return, okay?”

  Casey would have almost sworn that Annie cooed in gratitude. This guy really was dangerous—in many ways, she decided.

  A moment later, he was gone.

  Looking at Steve, Casey asked, “Do you think he’ll find her?”

  “What do you think?”

  She gave it a moment’s consideration. “I think he probably will.”

  “So do I. By the way, it was very generous of you to offer to watch Annie tomorrow. I know how difficult the offer must have been for you.”

  “I made it for Annie, not for you,” she said a bit gruffly.

  He moved to stand beside her chair, stroking her hair. He seemed to enjoy doing that, she thought. She wondered if he knew that he made her tremble every time he did it

  “You talk so tough,” he murmured, a smile in his voice. “But this time I don’t believe you. You know full well that Annie will be fine—that I’d make arrangements to stay with her myself if you couldn’t. But you also know how difficult it is for me to be away from my office for a day. Your offer was for me, not Annie. And I appreciate it.”

  Casey tried to frown at him. “Don’t be ridiculous. Why would I help you stay in business when I fully intend to put you under?”

  He leaned over to brush a kiss against her lips. “When you come up with the answer to that, be sure and let me know.”

  That whisper of a kiss had only left her hungry for more. She averted her eyes before he could read the truth there. “Annie’s going to want her bottle soon.”

  “I’ll get one ready.” He seemed to understand that she needed some time and space to analyze her own emotions.

  She was both grateful and inexplicably disappointed when he moved away from her.

  WHEN CASEY finally returned to her apartment an hour later, she had the strangest sensation that she’d been gone much longer than one night. So much had happened since she’d left here yesterday, she thought, a bit dazed. Would anything ever be quite the same again?

  There’d been no evidence of anyone following her this time, and she’d seen no one lurking outside her door. Ignoring the blinking message light on her answering machine for the moment, she headed straight for her bedroom, where she changed into clean clothes and touched up what little makeup she’d been able to apply from her purse that morning. She put her hair up in a neat twist, then made a cursory examination of her reflection in the mirror.

  She looked as though she was headed for the office in her black slacks and black-and-red print blouse. For some reason, she felt more confident and prepared for the rest of the day now that she was more professionally dressed.

  Only then did she feel ready to face her messages. She pushed the play button. The first two messages were from JCS employees; she made a note to call them back. The third message was from an old friend who wanted to schedule a catch-up dinner. Scribbling down the number, she began to relax when it seemed that all the calls had been innocuous.

  And then a man’s voice came through the speaker. “Ms. Jansen, this is Frank Claybrook. I’m an investigator looking for a former employee of yours, Janice Gibson. I’ve tried to reach you at your office, but your employees say you’ve been unavailable this weekend. I’d appreciate it if you’d call me as soon as you get this. You can leave a message at the Discount Inn on Ninth Street.” He concluded by reciting the motel telephone number and then adding a brusque, “Thank you.”

  “Forget it, Claybrook,” Casey muttered, not bothering to write down the number. “I have no intention of calling you.”

  She spent the next forty-five minutes concentrating on business, making arrangements with her staff in case she couldn’t get in the following day. “If you need to reach me, call my cell phone number,” she instructed her office manager, making a mental note to keep the phone nearby. She didn’t want to give out Steve’s number—just in case there was any way someone might figure out where she’d been spending so much time lately.

  Seemingly unperturbed at being contacted on a Sunday afternoon, the efficient Pamela replied, “Yes, Ms. Jansen. And if Jack Alexander calls?”

  It suddenly occurred to Casey that no one on her staff called her by her first name. Not her office workers, her pilots, or her maintenance people. She’d known some of them since her childhood, yet they called her Ms. Jansen—just as they’d called her father Mr. Jansen. She had never thought to suggest otherwise.

  Would any of them feel free to come to her if they were in trouble? Somehow she doubted it—just as she couldn’t imagine turning to any of them with her personal problems.

  How much had she sacrificed to prove to her father that she could be as capable as he was?

  “Ms. Jansen?” Pamela repeated. “What shall I tell Mr. Alexander if he calls?”

  “Give him my cell number,” Casey answered. “Whatever I’m doing, I’ll make time to talk to him.” Alexander was a successful distributor whose business Casey had been after for some time. She’d been trying to convince him to use her charter service rather than the big-name carriers he’d patronized in the past.

  “Is there anything else?”

  “No, that will be all,” Casey replied. After a moment’s hesitation, she added, “Pamela—thank you. I’m sorry I had to disturb you on your day off.”

  “T
hat’s quite all right, Ms. Jansen.” Pamela sounded just a bit surprised.

  It probably wouldn’t hurt her to study Steve’s management skills a bit, at least in the area of employee relations, Casey mused as she hung up the phone. Of course, her father would have scoffed at the very idea.

  She knew she should head back to Steve’s place soon. Though he seemed to be taking good care of the baby, he could probably use some assistance. She knew he probably needed a load of laundry done, especially towels and the baby’s sleepers. But she wasn’t quite ready to go back.

  The truth was, she thought, sinking to the couch, she was terrified of her feelings for Steve. And she wasn’t entirely sure why.

  Of course there were the fears that accompanied any new relationship. Were his feelings genuine? Did he want a future with her or only a fling? Had he seen her as a challenge whose appeal to him would wane now that he’d succeeded in charming her into his bed?

  But there were other fears in this case. No matter how casually Steve seemed to run his business, Casey knew exactly how hard he had worked, how many hours he had invested. Beneath his lazy smiles was a determination that had made him a formidable competitor in a relatively short time. She knew how badly he wanted Lockhart Air to succeed—but how far was he willing to go to make sure it did so? There was no denying his unswerving loyalty to his own employees, but did he feel any responsibility to his competitor, even a competitor he desired on a physical level?

  Her father had not taught her to trust blindly.

  She’d spent so many years in her father’s shadow, trying to prove herself to him. And later trying to prove to everyone else that she was equal to him. She had only recently begun to feel that she had finally asserted her independence, that she had finally begun to build a life of her own.

  Steve was very different from Louis Jansen in many ways, but there were a few traits the two men shared. Like Louis, Steve was larger-than-life, a man others instinctively followed, a man who couldn’t be relegated to the background. Like Louis, he was accustomed to making his own rules, following his own agenda, having his own way.

  How would he feel about Casey if she really did succeed in putting him out of business?