“PoopyPants” was not the answer she was looking for.
But he’d already given her enough to start with. If she could only find that crazy metal artist guy, maybe he could tell her who she was. He must know. She’d been his “golden ticket.” And the car had been fancy, which seemed to mean maybe she came from a wealthy family? There had to have been media coverage somewhere. She just had to find out where.
The questions multiplied in her mind. Mark hadn’t said anything else about the kidnapper. What was his name? Where did he live? Had he gone to jail? He must have! People couldn’t just kidnap kids without going to prison. Even if Mark didn’t remember his name, at least he must know the town where he’d been found.
This was a huge breakthrough.
Which meant that her mission here at the Ocean Shores Marina was complete.
A hollow feeling settled into her stomach. This was what spies did when they finished their job. They moved on to the next one. They didn’t linger in the hopes of finally being able to kiss their victims.
Well, maybe James Bond did. If she was James Bond, she would have long ago kissed Mark. If she was James Bond, she wouldn’t care about things like prior relationships. She would just…enjoy the moment. Dodge the bullets, mix the martini, hop in the fast car and kiss the girl. And that would be just the beginning, because James Bond didn’t hold back. Spies had no time for hesitation because at any moment they could be captured or shot, or imprisoned by a bad guy, or shoved in a car by a stranger…
She fell asleep at some point during that reverie, but her thoughts must have continued as she dreamed. Because when she woke, she was curled up with Mark. His arm was slung over her waist, and their faces were the merest breath apart. He was still asleep—she thought. But she wasn’t sure. All she knew was that he was so warm and so close, as mouthwatering as a fresh-baked cinnamon roll.
Be like James Bond. When would she ever get another chance to find out what it was like to kiss him?
Without thinking anymore about it, she brushed her lips against his.
It felt magical, as sparkly as fairy dust. Her lips tingled and burned with the need to kiss him again.
This time, she lingered longer, less of a brush than a “hello, I’m here.”
He stirred slightly, and a long sigh came from his mouth. She lifted herself on one elbow and stared down at him. His stubble had grown in thick overnight. How crazy to have such active hair follicles. Did they never rest, those beard hairs? What other body part could you practically watch as it grew?
Of course, she could think of one very obvious part.
She smothered a smile, wondering if her James Bond skills could extend to checking on that part. What if she lifted the covers, ever so slightly, and just took a peek? Last night Mark’s towel-clad nakedness had totally gone to waste. All they’d done was talk, and she’d been so fascinated that she hadn’t allowed her attention to stray to his physique.
At least not to the extent that it deserved.
Just one peek. What could it hurt?
She lifted the coverlet for a quick glimpse, but it was dark under there, and all she saw was shadowed muscular limbs, like a sculpture hidden in a dimly lit storeroom. Maybe her eyes just had to adjust to the darkness. She gave it a second, blinking her eyes, willing her rods and cones to cooperate.
A soft chuckle interrupted her.
Face flaming, she dropped the blanket and looked up to see Mark’s sleepy dark eyes smiling at her.
“See anything interesting under there?”
“Um…yes. There’s a…ah… I thought I felt a cat. I was just checking to see if Mellow snuck under the covers. He knows he’s not supposed to do that, because of potential fleas, but he’s not the most obedient—”
She stopped abruptly as he leaned forward and captured her lips with his.
An electric shock of a thrill blasted through her. Now that was a real kiss. Not a brush or a gentle hello, but a firm, commanding possession of her mouth. She sighed and melted toward him, surrendering every bit of herself to the pleasure of the contact. He took complete charge of the kiss, and where he led, she followed—opening for his tongue, shivering under the velvety friction. Her heart jumped crazily, speeding up one second, slowing down the next, doing somersaults in her throat.
He raised himself up on his elbow to slant his mouth deeper over hers. She tilted her head back, dizzy and delirious, and inhaled the fresh morning scent of him. His natural male smell combined with the salt breeze filtering in from the porthole, the tarry scent of the pier, and the ever-present hint of diesel. She found it intoxicating, a feast for her nose.
She was kissing Mark. Actually, even better, he was kissing her. Kissing her as if he wanted her fiercely. As if she was his.
Finally, he drew away, their lips clinging until the last second.
Her breath caught as her lungs raced to catch up with her heart. “Wow. You kissed me.” Pointing out the obvious.
“I figured it was okay since we know we’re not related. And because you kissed me first.”
“I thought you were asleep.”
“Not about to sleep through that.” He grinned in a carefree way she barely recognized. Where was the serious, overworked Mark she knew? This guy was lighthearted and scruffy and ridiculously charming.
“Oh. So you knew—”
“That you were checking me out—yes. By the way, if you do that now, you’ll get a whole different view.”
Her face heated. “I’m sorry, that was probably pretty rude. It’s not nice to spy on someone when they’re asleep.”
“You’re right. Very rude. But I might forgive you.”
“Might?”
“Well, you have to earn forgiveness, you know. I can’t just go handing it out like candy.”
Her stomach rumbled at the mention of candy. He heard it, too, and laughed.
“I said I was sorry,” she told him. “Isn’t that enough to earn forgiveness?”
“It’s definitely a start. That kiss helped, too. How about one more, and you’re forgiven.”
Part of her felt secretly disappointed that all it would take was another kiss. On the other hand, another kiss sounded absolutely perfect to her. She tilted her head toward him.
This kiss was on a different plane altogether. It felt like drowning, like immersing herself in a different element, not water, but some other intoxicating substance. He rolled onto his side and took her head in both hands, angling her so he could go deeper, deeper, until her head spun, and she barely remembered where they were.
Then she did remember.
And pulled away. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “We really shouldn’t do this.”
His jaw ticked, his dark gaze capturing hers in a way that made time slip. “Because of Sophie?”
“Partly. You two just broke up. It doesn’t seem right. And I don’t want to be your rebound.”
One corner of his mouth quirked up. “Gracie, you and I…there’s no way you could ever fit into a label like that. You don’t have to worry. You’re…I don’t know how to put it. We don’t fit into any normal category of relationship. We can’t, not with our strange history.”
“It’s not just that. I have to leave soon.”
“What are you talking about?” He sat up, the covers falling off his naked chest.
He looked even more delicious in the morning light, muscles flexing under his smooth skin. She wished she could sketch him like this and wondered if she’d ever have the chance to do so. Would he let her come back and work for him again when this was all over?
“Well, I’ve found part of my answer. You. But not all the answer. I still have to find out who my parents are. And thanks to you, I now have a big lead. I need to pursue it right away.”
His gaze sharpened. “You mean the kidnapper? You want to go after him?”
She sat up, too, cross-legged on the bed. “Bingo. He knew something about me, because he called me his golden ticket. It wasn’t just a rand
om carjacking. Maybe he can tell me who my parents are.”
“Or maybe he’s a crazy motherfucker who can’t tell his hat from his cereal bowl.”
His harsh tone made her jump. “His cereal bowl?”
“Yes, he made me pour his cereal into his hat once. Gracie, that man doesn’t know anything. He’s crazy—literally crazy. He has bipolar disorder. At the trial, he pleaded not guilty by reason of insanity, and no one argued with it. He’s nuts!”
She bit her lip, intimidated by his fierceness. “So you know more about him?”
“I know all about him. I’ve kept an eye on him for years. Well, a friend has. I need to know his general location, or it’s hard for me to sleep. But Gracie, you can’t go see him. I won’t allow it.”
“You won’t allow it? Why do you have a say in it?”
“Because I do! You don’t even know his name or where he is, and I won’t tell you. It’s too dangerous.”
“I have a—”
“And don’t tell me about your knife. It’s not that kind of danger. He’s just—he’s crazy. He’s damaged. I don’t want you anywhere near him.”
“You’re treating me like a child again.”
“No. I wouldn’t want anyone near him. Especially anyone I care about.”
“Oh.” He cared about her. Touched, she reached for him, her hand landing on the smooth pectoral muscle that covered his heart. Maybe not the best idea because the feel of that hard curve sent tingles through her body. “You’re very sweet to worry. But I only want to find out what he knows about me.”
“No.” The hard glint in his eye made her draw back.
“What do you mean, no?”
“I mean, no. You don’t know what you’re getting into. You can’t go there alone.”
That was actually a good point, compared to his other scare tactics. “Then come with me.”
Images flooded her brain—a road trip. Cozying up in hotel beds together. Hours of time alone with him. The idea was intoxicating.
“Hell no. I can’t leave the marina. And I’m not going to be a party to this. There’s got to be some other way you can figure out who your parents are. We know the year, and the approximate location. You can look up carjackings around Santa Rosa.”
“But he could have carjacked my mother somewhere else. He was filling up the tank, so he’d probably already driven a long way.”
“Okay, then…” He thought about it. “The gas station. I know exactly where it is. Maybe they have video surveillance of the license plate.”
“After twenty-three years?” She shook her head. “There’s no way, unless the police asked for it back then. Did they do an investigation after he grabbed you? Do you know what they found?”
“Not much. If I hadn’t run away, I might still be there.”
“Hmm.” She glanced away from him, chewing on her lower lip.
Face it—Mark wasn’t going to help her. She was on her own. Her best lead was the crazy artist-kidnapper, and she’d just have to find him herself.
Without telling Mark, because he might freak out.
“Well, I guess you’re right. I shouldn’t be counting on a mentally disturbed person to solve my problems. Thank you, Mark. I appreciate your concern. I’ll find another way.”
He gave her a look loaded with suspicion. “Like what?”
“I don’t know yet. I’ll figure something out. It’s one step at a time, like always. I’ll give it a few days before I decide my next move. In the meantime, I’m sorry, Mark, but I need to give my notice. I’m going to have to leave Ocean Shores.”
His eyes narrowed. He rested one elbow on an updrawn knee, which reminded her that he was naked under the covers. “How long? Two weeks is the standard.”
“Roughly. I’m not sure, exactly.” She held on to her innocent expression, even though she hated fudging like this.
“Okay.”
Still, he didn’t budge. Was he waiting for more of a commitment? Was he sad that she was leaving? Worried about finding a replacement for her?
“You do know that I’m buck naked, right?” he finally said. “Unless you want an eyeful, you should probably get out of bed first.”
“Right.” She scrambled out of the big bed. As soon as her feet hit the floor, Mellow shot into the air with a yowl. He’d apparently spent the night curled up with his head resting on her flip-flops. She scooped him into her arms. “So sorry, poor baby. Did I frighten you with my big feet?”
Rubbing her nose against the top of his head, she inhaled the comforting fragrance of his fur. How could she possibly bear to leave this cat? But she had to. No way could she travel with a stray cat in her car.
And then there was Rogue, her brother Griffin’s new puppy. His attitude toward cats was unpredictable. She certainly couldn’t bring Mellow to Rocky Peak Lodge, which was her first stop.
Because Mark was right about one thing. She couldn’t visit the crazy kidnapper dude on her own. She needed backup, and she knew exactly where to find that. At Rocky Peak Lodge, she had three brothers and an amazing new almost brother-in-law who would be happy to escort her to the kidnapper’s lair.
All she had to do first was explain why.
In other words, she had to drop a bombshell on the Rockwell family.
15
How the hell did “roughly” two weeks’ notice translate to a couple of hours? Mark stormed into the marina convenience store, where one of the high school pump jockeys was manning the register.
“What are you doing?”
“Gracie asked me to fill in.”
“And you do whatever Gracie wants?”
“Pretty much,” the kid admitted. He picked at a pimple on his chin. “She’s nice.”
“I’m nice. I pay you. That’s nice.”
The kid shrugged and looked back at his phone, where some kind of game was still playing. Slow day at the office, apparently.
“When’s she coming back?”
“Didn’t say, but I thought she’d be back by now. I gotta leave soon. I have a calculus exam tomorrow.”
Mark shot a pointed glance at his phone, but the guy didn’t seem to register his point.
“Okay, just…hang out for another few minutes. Let me find out how long she’ll be gone.”
But a quick check of the Buttercup told him all he needed to know. All her things were gone. Not only that, but when he opened his filing box, he found that his papers had all been returned to a neat pile. Too neat. She’d gone through the entire thing.
Which meant that by now, she knew the kidnapper’s name, Janus Kaminski, and the general area where he lived in Idaho.
But still, she’d never find him on her own. Even Mark would have to do some Google Earth research to locate the route to his property.
Then again, don’t underestimate Gracie.
His phone rang. Dr. Geller on the line. Had he missed an appointment?
But no. “Just wanted to let you know that I got a call from a young woman who was asking some interesting questions.”
“Did she say who she was?”
“She said she was a family member of yours who was putting together a scrapbook about the family history. I told her I couldn’t say anything about anything. She wouldn’t say where she got my number.”
“Gracie.” He set his jaw. “She must have sneaked your number off my phone.”
“Gracie, the girl who’s working for you?”
“Was working. I think she must have already left.”
“I’m confused. Why did she call me?”
“It’s a long story. Don’t blame yourself for being confused. It’s a hazard for anyone who gets involved with Gracie Rockwell.”
“Involved? Is this something we should—”
“No. I misspoke. I’m not involved. I’m not getting involved. Gotta go.”
“But—”
Mark hung up as something furry rubbed against his leg. He looked down to find Mellow staring up at him woefully. “She’s gone, bud
dy. Sorry to break the news. Hope you didn’t get too attached. We’ll keep feeding you, I promise.”
Mellow meowed loudly. The sound echoed through the cabin of the Buttercup. It felt deserted and empty of light without Gracie. He curled one hand into a fist and pounded it lightly on the teak trim around the hatch.
How had she gotten into his phone? True, he tended to leave it lying around, but it was password-protected. She must have figured out his password. Between that and going through his private papers, she’d done a very thorough investigation.
Don’t underestimate Gracie. She might look like an innocent blond pixie, but she was on a mission, and she wasn’t going to let a few scruples stop her.
Honestly, he admired her…and was furious at her at the same time. Not because she’d spied on him. But because she wasn’t paying attention to his warning. He should have known she wouldn’t. He had known. But he thought he’d have more time to convince her.
Roughly two weeks’ notice, my ass.
He glanced at his bed, which she’d remade before she took off. With Gracie gone, he could move back onto his beloved houseboat. He could focus on work. Maybe work on that expansion plan he finally had the funds for. Get some bids, work on some drawings.
Drawings… That made him think of Gracie and her sketchbook. If she were still here, she could help him bring his vision to life. But she wasn’t. She was on her way to find a dangerous man. The man who had singlehandedly scarred him for life.
Mellow rubbed his head hard against Mark’s leg. “I know what you’re saying, cat. You think I should go after her, don’t you?”
Mellow gazed up at him with misty cat eyes that reminded him, just a tiny bit, of Gracie’s.
“I warned her, and she didn’t listen. Why is it my responsibility?”
Mellow made a U-turn and came back to rub the other side of his furry head against Mark’s leg.
“I hate leaving the marina. You know that, or you should, since you’ve been hanging around here forever. Shit. Okay, fine, you can stop nagging. Damn you, cat.”
Of course, Mellow probably just wanted some food, but whatever.
The Runaway Page 11