Operation Hero's Watch. Justine Davis

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СКАЧАТЬ then spent another hour going over things she never would have even thought might be connected. The business, finances, other relatives, even any lingering threads from her parents’ deaths.

      “I’ve got some things to check,” Rafe finally said. He looked at Jace. “You’ve got first watch. Stay with her, keep that phone handy and don’t hesitate to use it. I’ll call you when I take over, then you can get some rest.”

      “What about you?” Cassidy asked.

      “Don’t worry about me,” Rafe said and headed for the back door she’d shown him earlier. Cassidy wondered who did worry about him. “I’m going to check around outside first. Cutter, with me.”

      The dog spun on his hind legs and was at Rafe’s side in a single leap. Gone was the quiet, gentle, soothing animal she’d seen so far; this was a working dog now, and the difference was startling. Dog and man made an impressive team, and yet again the word that occurred to her was intimidating.

      And then they were gone, so quietly she wasn’t certain at first that they hadn’t just stayed on the back deck.

      “Wow,” she said, a little taken aback. “You really called in the cavalry.”

      “Ex, maybe,” Jace agreed. “But I told you, he found me. Well, the dog did.”

      She smiled at that. “Not sure what I think of that dog. He’s almost spooky, the way he seems to sense things.”

      “Rafe says he still surprises them all the time. At home he patrols the neighborhood twice a day, and last month he stole the cell phone of a neighbor so she’d come after him, because she had a problem Foxworth could help her with.”

      Cassidy blinked. “And just how did he know that?”

      “No idea.”

      “Have you looked them up?”

      “No.” His mouth twisted again. “No phone, remember? But we stopped at their office on the way here. Pretty impressive setup. They’ve even got a helicopter, and apparently a small plane at the local airfield.”

      “Fancy place?”

      “No, not at all. Kind of hidden in the trees, not even a sign. Rafe says they work mostly by word of mouth. And lately, the dog.” She laughed. Jace shrugged. “Yeah. Sounds crazy, but here I am.”

      A sudden warmth filled her. Yes, he was. She’d called, and he’d come. Just like he’d promised. “You’re still a good guy, Jace Robinson.”

      He’d been looking at the new phone, but now his head came up sharply. “Not Robinson. Not anymore.”

      Cassidy blinked. “What?”

      “I don’t use...his name anymore.”

      For a moment she just stared at him, unsure what, if anything, she should say to that. She’d always known he and his father didn’t get along and suspected from some things both her parents and Cory had said that he wasn’t a pleasant guy. And then Jace had started taking judo lessons with Cory, and she’d wondered again if there was more to it than just a guy’s fascination with martial arts. But then he’d started winning competitions, and he rarely mentioned his father anyway, so she’d kind of forgotten.

      “Okay,” she finally said, knowing she sounded rather lame but unable to think of anything else to say.

      “That’s it? ‘Okay’?” He looked at her steadily, as if daring her to question him.

      She kept her voice even. “I assume you had good reason. From what little I knew of your father, I think I understand.”

      He let out a breath, relaxing a little, and she wondered what others had assumed. That he was some career criminal looking for a new start, or some victim of media overreach looking for anonymity?

      “I had it legally changed when my mom went back to her maiden name, Cahill.”

      “So you’re Jace Cahill now?”

      He nodded.

      “Sounds good together,” she said, meaning it. She left it at that. “By whatever name, thank you for coming. I feel a little silly now. It sounds so crazy when I say it to someone else—” She stopped when he held up a hand.

      “I’m sure most stalking victims think it sounds crazy until they find out it’s true. And better you take steps and it turns out not to be anything than not and it does. Or something.” He gave her that crooked smile that had always sent her pulse racing. It still did, and she looked down, a little embarrassed that after all this time he could have this effect on her.

      She supposed she shouldn’t be. He had the same bright blue eyes and that same sweetly crooked smile. His body was still tall and lean, and he still had that way of shoving one hand in his jeans pocket that made her hyperaware of the lean maleness of his hips. The fact that he looked older now, a bit older even than she knew he was, only made him more attractive. True, he looked a bit careworn, his hair longer and a bit shaggy, his jeans frayed and faded, his jacket torn on one side, his boots worn and with what looked like a strip of duct tape across one toe. Then again, people paid lots of money for just that look in a futile effort to appear cool.

      But that kind of guy didn’t travel over a thousand miles to keep a silly promise to look out for his friend’s younger sister.

      “Let’s get you settled in,” she said, making an effort at sounding brisk and efficient, and succeeding somewhat. “Are you hungry?”

      “Starved,” he admitted with a rueful twist of his mouth.

      “Then aren’t you lucky I made spaghetti sauce yesterday,” she said lightly.

      As if on cue his stomach growled. And it made his protest that she didn’t have to do that sound like exactly what it was, a token.

      “You came all this way to help me, the least I can do is feed you.” She led him down the hall. He glanced at a doorway as they passed—Cory’s old room. “It’s still Cory’s,” she said, “not that he uses it anymore. He just stores a lot of junk in there. I can’t get him to clean it out.”

      “I still remember those bunk beds your dad built. I always thought that was so cool. Not just the beds, but that he built them himself.”

      He had always liked them, she remembered. And she remembered his reaction when he’d first looked at the footboards her father had carved. Hey, wings! Cory had looked at him blankly, even her father had seemed puzzled, but she had seen what he meant—the angle of the design did look like seagull wings.

      “He was a very handy guy,” she said softly.

      “I’m sorry,” Jace said. “I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories.”

      “They’re not painful,” she assured him quickly. “I love that people remember him like that. Most people don’t talk about them, and it feels like they’ve forgotten they ever existed.”

      They’d reached the door to the guest room. “I moved into the master,” she said. “After a year or so. It seemed silly not to, if I was going to keep the place.”

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