Camouflage Cowboy. Jan Hambright

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      Trust. He needed to establish a level of trust between them, and fast. He was losing her with every tick of the second hand on his watch, and for some reason, that mattered to him.

      Rocking slightly to the left, he dug into his pants pocket and pulled out his wallet. “I know you’ve got to leave soon, but I want you to have this just in case you need to contact me.” He opened his billfold and pulled out a Corps Security and Investigations card with his name and cell number on it.

      “If you change your mind and want me to describe the purse-snatcher to the police, just give me a call at this number.” He slid the card across the table to her.

      She picked it up and stared at it for a moment before nonchalantly putting it in her sweater pocket. “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary. I’m fine. I have my purse, and its contents. It might be better if we drop the matter entirely.”

      Curiosity jetted across Nick’s mind and he focused his gaze on Grace’s beautiful face. How was it she’d managed to avoid giving him anything more than her first name? Sure, he had an entire paper file amassed on her: he knew where she worked, where she lived, what she drove and damn near what she’d had for dinner last night, but his desire to glean it from her own lips was falling flat. The woman was playing it safe, a fact that intrigued him and bothered him at the same time. What was she hiding?

      “I really need to get going.” She took another quick swallow from her glass, put it down, snagged her purse and slid out of the booth.

      “Thanks again for your help, Nick.” She gave him a sweet smile, turned and walked to the café counter, where she spoke to Faith Scott for a moment.

      Nick turned slightly, watching Faith reach under the counter and pull out a sheet of paper, hand it to Grace, then return to her customers.

      He turned back around and waited for the jingle of the bell on the café door to signal Grace’s departure from the establishment.

      Reaching into his jean jacket, he pulled an evidence bag out of the inside pocket. Grace may be tight-lipped with personal information, but DNA held no such pretenses, and he planned to make a mitochondrial comparison with the sample the governor had already given him. He grasped the glass at the bottom where she hadn’t touched it, dumped the remainder of the water into her unused coffee cup and eased the glass into the bag.

      “Uh-huh.”

      The sound of a throat being cleared raked over Nick’s nerves. He stared up at Faith and the coffeepot in her hand.

      “What are you up to, Nick?” she asked as she topped off his java.

      “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”

      She grinned. “Does this have anything to do with your secret assignment for Governor Lockhart?”

      Nick shook his head and slipped out of the booth. “You know the things we do at CSaI are hush-hush.” He winked at her as he tucked the evidence bag inside his jacket. As long as no one knew what that assignment was, the secret was safe.

      “That’s stealing, Cavanaugh.”

      “Not if I bring it back. Washed.”

      Faith shook her head and grinned. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

      “While we’re telling secrets—” Nick pulled out his wallet and put a five on the table “—mind if I ask what you gave Grace at the counter a moment ago?”

      “That’s no secret. Molly Alden left for college months ago. Gloria and I have been taking up the slack, but between taking care of Kaleigh and adjusting to having a man around again, I’m pooped. I need someone to fill in a couple nights a week. I gave Grace an application. I just hope she fills it out and gets it back to me. I like her.”

      Nick grinned. Faith had recently won the heart of fellow CSaI agent and friend Matt Soarez. “I’d offer to help around here, but I’m not sure some of your regulars wouldn’t break me and cause me to spill the state secrets I have along with their coffee.”

      “Stan Lorry and Fred March could probably pull it off,” Faith said with a chuckle, referring to her cranky elderly regulars. “The trouble would come when they told Allen Davidson and he aired it on his radio show.”

      Nick did a fake shudder. “Spooky. I’ll see you later.” He headed for the door and stepped outside, where he immediately spotted the top of Grace’s head as she ducked into her car half a block up the street.

      He fell into an easy stroll as she pulled away from the curb, headed due north. Probably to the hospital was his guess. He’d learned that she had a four-year-old son named Caleb who received some sort of treatments at Holy Cross every couple of weeks. The prescription drug bottle had confirmed it, but there were holes in Grace’s background history. Holes he’d yet to plug.

      The sound of a revved engine caught his attention as he spotted a late-model black sedan with Montana license plates pull away from the curb and roll in a car’s length behind Grace.

      Caution raked over his nerves. From his observation point on the park bench earlier, he’d seen the same car just after she’d arrived. Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen the driver exit the vehicle.

      He took a right onto 4th Street and dug the keys to his pickup out of his pocket. Was it possible the beautiful and cautious Grace Marshall was being followed by someone other than him? He decided to keep an eye out in order to confirm his suspicion.

      NICK WALKED INTO Corps Security and Investigations headquarters still mulling over his and Grace Marshall’s brief encounter.

      Harlan McClain sat behind his desk minus the black hoodie and sweatpants he’d used to disguise himself for the purse-snatching ruse.

      “Thanks, buddy,” Nick said as he tossed his keys onto his desk and leaned against the edge. “Your timing was spot-on.”

      Harlan swiveled his desk chair. “Did you get what you needed from her?”

      “Yeah.” He reached inside his jacket and pulled out the evidence bag. Holding it up to the light streaming in through one of the loft windows, he could see the clear imprint of Grace Marshall’s lips on the rim of the glass. Grace’s lips. Her perfect, kissable lips.

      “You’re not going to tell me what the hell is going on, are you?” Harlan rocked forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

      “Can’t, but suffice to say it’s an assignment that came down personally from Governor Lockhart.” Nick put the bag down on his desk and went around to the other side. He pulled open the file drawer, took out a lab form and sat down in his chair. The results of the DNA test on the lip impression would come in from their private lab in a week. It was the definitive piece of evidence he needed. He didn’t particularly like the method he’d been forced to use to obtain it, but in this case, the end did justify the means, and he’d be able to tell the governor conclusively whether or not Grace Marshall was her illegitimate daughter.

      Nick filled out the paperwork, aware of the modulation of Nolan Law’s voice as he stepped out of his office, still talking on his cell phone.

      “Is he awake yet?” A measure of excitement materialized in Nolan’s tone. They’d yet to catch a break in the case of СКАЧАТЬ