The Hidden Years. Susan Kearney

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      Chapter Three

      “You forgot to tell the cops that you’re into kinky sex?” Jake’s teasing comment came out of nowhere. He was just hoping to ease her tension.

      She humored him with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Nothing so scandalous.”

      “You made an illegal U-turn on the way home?”

      He didn’t like the paleness of her skin beneath the tan and wanted to see the glow come back. Even more, he wanted to return their friendship to an even keel and forget her words about how she’d wished they’d kept in touch. At night for months after she’d gone off to college, he’d thought of little more than what it would have been like to touch her and have her touch him in return.

      He didn’t want those fantasies in his head. Besides, Cassidy had been frightened. Hurt. In shock. And while he didn’t believe that her remarks reflected anything beyond a desire for a platonic friendship, he suspected that her words would haunt his dreams for weeks.

      “Jake, stop teasing me.” She rested her head back on the sofa and her golden hair spilled over her shoulders. “When I left your place, I was angry with you.”

      “That’s why I came here. To apologize for my bad behavior. Even if your father refused to talk to me, I had no right to blame you for his actions. To practically call you a liar was going way too far. I’m sorry.”

      “Apology accepted. I’d say you’ve more than made up for your rudeness by saving my life.” Cassidy shuddered, then raised her chin, and her eyes darkened with determination. “I thought I’d dumped the box’s entire contents at your feet—”

      He chuckled. “A highly dramatic gesture that helped me come to my senses.”

      “—but one of the papers stayed in the box. A paper with a phone number.”

      “You called that number?” he guessed, neither the least bit surprised by her impulsiveness nor bothered that she hadn’t returned to give it to him—not in the dark mood he’d been in. But he’d set those old painful memories aside. He’d moved on with his life. And part of moving on meant realizing that Cassidy had never felt about him the way he’d once felt about her. She’d considered him a friend and had never wanted more. He’d been the one who’d once wanted more, but he hadn’t been willing to show her how he’d really felt and risk losing her friendship. But that was all a long time ago.

      He was different now, not so afraid to risk what he had to get what he wanted. But had Cassidy changed? Was she still the same person he remembered? Did she see him as the friend he’d once been? Or did she see him as a man with wants and needs and desires?

      Cassidy’s sweet voice drew him from his thoughts. “The woman who answered my call asked for a password. I had no idea what she was talking about, so I just read the words off the slip of paper.”

      A password? He shoved aside thoughts about the past and concentrated on the present. Cassidy had his full attention. “What password?”

      “I can’t remember. The paper’s in my purse in the kitchen, I think.”

      Jake retrieved her purse and watched her dig through it. She was starting to recover from her ordeal. Slowly her voice was regaining some strength, her shoulders were slumping less. And he could only admire her courage.

      Cassidy had grown up in a secure home with loving parents who’d given her every advantage in life. Yet she wasn’t spoiled. She’d had to live with setbacks and a few hard knocks. After her mother’s death from cancer, she’d shown a resilience that was a testament to Frazier Atkins’s fathering skills. And if the man had become overprotective of his daughter, Jake wouldn’t have blamed him—except that overprotectiveness had sliced Cassidy from Jake’s life.

      While Cassidy might be facing her own mortality for the first time, she wasn’t just coping. She was thinking with all eight cylinders. And just like ten years ago, her primary thoughts weren’t revolving around him.

      At least she seemed willing and able to keep her thoughts trained on business. Right now, Jake couldn’t afford the distraction of brooding over the past, not when Cassidy’s life might be at stake.

      “Here it is!” She handed him the paper. “‘Blow back.’ That’s what I said, and the woman connected me. There was a long wait. Finally a man answered and asked who I worked for.” Cassidy’s eyes suddenly grew wide, her words rushed out with a burst of excitement. “That’s what I couldn’t remember. The man who broke in asked the same exact question as the person at this number. Both wanted to know who I worked for.”

      But Cassidy didn’t work for anybody. What the hell was going on?

      It could have been a coincidence, but Jake didn’t believe it. He’d spent too long as a detective, too long investigating the seamier side of life on behalf of his clients not to recognize a tenuous connection. Something in that box, someone Cassidy had called, had placed her life in danger.

      She’d almost died because she’d done him a favor. “If you hadn’t tried to help me, you wouldn’t be in danger.”

      She warily looked at the windows, then squared her shoulders. “The intruder is gone. Who says I’m still in danger?”

      “I think your phone call triggered the intruder’s showing up on your doorstep, but he didn’t get what he wanted.”

      Cassidy’s forehead wrinkled in a frown. “But I don’t work for anyone. I didn’t know what he wanted.”

      “But if he thinks you have the answers he wants, he may come back.” Jake dragged a hand through his hair, weighing possibilities and options.

      “Maybe we need to tell the police,” Cassidy suggested.

      “We have nothing solid. Even if they believed us, the Crescent Cove police department doesn’t have the manpower to pursue an investigation.” Jake scowled at the thought of law enforcement, of policemen grilling Cassidy and himself about his past, asking questions they couldn’t answer. Jake dialed his cell phone, the paper Cassidy had given him still in his hand. “Harrison, you still have that friend at the phone company?”

      Harrison groaned. “It’ll cost me a dinner and dancing.”

      “You can use the exercise,” Jake quipped. “I want you to trace this call.” Jake gave Harrison the number. “I’ll pay for the dinner.”

      “But how’re you going to pay for my aching feet?”

      After Jake hung up, Cassidy looked up at him, her eyes thoughtful. “I think we should go through the box’s contents carefully. Maybe there will be clues that can tell us what’s going on. I know you didn’t want my help, I know you blame my father for not giving you the box ten years ago, but we have to go on. My life may be at stake. I feel as if I’m entitled to see this through. Don’t make me wait alone while you search for answers. Please, Jake?”

      He could ignore neither her fear nor her sincerity. And still he hesitated. “You might be in more danger if you help me.”

      She countered with direct simplicity. “I feel safer with you than without СКАЧАТЬ