B008DKAYYQ EBOK (22 page)

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Authors: Joyce Lamb

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“Hi, Cole,” A.J. said.

Bailey raised her head and froze when her gaze fixed on his. Before he could get a read on her expression, A.J. said, “Good timing. We could use another opinion.”
 

Slipping the photo from Bailey’s fingers, A.J. handed it to Cole. “Bailey has come into possession of an interesting picture. Looks to me like Kendall Falls’ finest might be up to no good.”

Bailey shifted her focus to A.J. “We don’t know that.”
 

A.J. sighed. “I’m thinking the bastard who’s attacked you twice is a pretty good indication that whatever’s going on in this picture is not innocent.” Then she turned to Cole. “What do you think?”

“Back up a minute,” he said. “Why do you think it’s related to the attacks?”

“The guy last night asked her where the film was.”

Cole released an exasperated groan as he cut his gaze to Bailey. “So naturally you had it developed to try to figure out yourself what he was after instead of just turning it over to the police.”
 

If the look Bailey shot him had been bullets, he would have been bending backward in a
Matrix
-like attempt to avoid being tagged. “And I’m supposed to believe that that’s what you would have done?”

A.J. made a T with her hands. “Could we take a time out and talk about the photo?”

Cole clenched his jaw and turned his attention to the picture, which Bailey had enlarged. Two uniformed police officers stood casually among several pine trees, hands braced behind their backs, feet spread. They faced another man in denim shorts and a pale blue T-shirt, his back to the camera. All three looked relaxed. One of the cops was even smiling.
 

“What’s suspicious about it?” Cole asked.

“That’s what I said,” Bailey replied.

“Where’d it come from?” he asked.

“Austin took it last week when we were playing with an old camera at the park.” She sat on the edge of her desk. “Makes sense that he would snap a shot of police officers. He’s a kid. Cops and robbers fascinate him.”

“We should turn it over to the FBI,” A.J. said. “The guy who’s after you asked specifically about pictures taken at the park. We’ve looked at them all, and this is what we’ve got. There’s got to be something incriminating about it, and we just don’t see it because we don’t know what we’re looking for.”

Cole nodded. “I agree. I’ve got a contact at the local bureau. We went to college together.”

Bailey picked up a pen and started fiddling with it. “Seems you have college friends all over the place.”

Cole ignored her as he studied the printout. “If something shady is going on here and a cop came after you, it could bring down some important people.”

Tossing the pen aside, Bailey hopped off the desk. “Not bad for a six-year-old’s first shot at photojournalism.”

Cole chuckled. “The picture’s even in focus.” He glanced up at Bailey with a wry grin. “Maybe you could learn something from him.”

A.J. laughed in disbelief, and Bailey stared at him in shock.
 

“What?” he said. “I was kidding.”

 
“You’re such a blockhead, Goodman,” A.J. said, heading for the door. “Much as I’d love to stick around to watch the bloodshed, I’m late for an interview. Let me know how it goes with the feds.”

Alone with Bailey, Cole pocketed his hands. “I was kidding. You’re a fantastic photographer.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “Forget it.”

“You’re the best this paper’s got. I’ve always thought so. I just said that to get a rise out of you.”

To his relief, she laughed. “If you backpedal any faster, you’re going to leave a Cole-shaped hole in the wall.”

He grinned. “Kind of like the Road Runner, huh?”

“If you make that meep-meep sound, I’m going to be creeped out.”

“I try to keep my meep-meeping to a minimum.” He gestured toward the door. “Shall we drop in for a visit at our local FBI office?”

“Both of us?”

“You are the keeper of the possibly incriminating photo.” He checked his watch. “And you’re not on duty for a while yet.”

She seemed to be trying to think of a way to dodge him but apparently came up empty, because she began gathering up the photos and negatives littering her desk.
 

 

* * *

 

In Cole’s SUV, Bailey watched the passing scenery. Vibrant flowers in orange and magenta dotted the landscape, looking as if the earlier rain had perked them up.
 

She wondered whether Cole knew they were being followed by her driver/bodyguard. If he did, he didn’t mention it.

They’d been on the road for fifteen minutes and hadn’t said a word. Which was fine with her. The less she had to talk to him, the better. It was bad enough she had to focus to keep from letting his fresh rain scent waft its way into her senses. She’d already had to come up with a song to sing in her head every time her brain veered into the memory of his kiss. Unfortunately, “George, George, George of the jungle, watch out for those … lips!” wasn’t doing the trick anymore.

Closing her eyes, she wondered what a photo of cops and a civilian in a park together could have to do with her brother. If the police had indeed been caught in the act of some misdeed and they or the man they were with had been trying to stop her from turning the photo over to federal authorities … why would they be so interested in how killing her would affect James? It didn’t make sense.
 

“The tense silence is getting to me,” Cole said.

She jolted at the sound of his voice but didn’t look at him. She didn’t need to to know exactly how he looked. Dark hair, kind eyes behind dark sunglasses, angular chin shadowed with a light beard. Very kissable lips … “Then say something,” she said.

“I just did.”

“Okay then.” She hated how bitchy she sounded, but she couldn’t help it. She had enough going on without having to deal with his reporter’s nose for news.

He sighed. “Can we call a truce?”

“Sure. Do you want me to sign something?”

“Somehow I have a feeling it would last as long as a Mideast peace plan,” he said.

“That’s insulting.”

“Seems that everything I say to you is.”

“Then perhaps you should adjust your approach.”

He braked for a stoplight. “Why don’t you give me a hint about what approach would work? Every approach I’ve tried has just pissed you off.”

“I think I have a right to be annoyed at your investigation of my past.”

“I can’t take it back, Bailey. If I could, I would.” The light turned green, and he hit the gas with more force than necessary. “And if I could kick Daniel’s ass again, I would,” he muttered.

She looked at him just as he flexed the hand with raw knuckles on the steering wheel. Her stomach gave an ominous flutter. “You kicked Daniel’s ass?”

He shrugged. “I wouldn’t call it a flat-out ass-kicking. More of a mouth punching.”

Her heart skipped. “Why?”

He cast her an impatient glance. “Why do you think?”

She didn’t know what to say. She hated violence.
Hated
it. But the thought of Cole Goodman taking down Daniel on her behalf … no, it didn’t please her, she thought in defiance of the “take that” satisfaction that rolled through her. But it did … baffle her. “Why would you do that, though? He’s your friend.”

He snorted. “Not anymore.”

“You’ve known him a lot longer than you’ve known me. Why would you believe me over him?”

“I didn’t believe you over him. You didn’t tell me anything, and all he did was lie.”

She sighed, reminded of his incessant nosiness. “I don’t understand why you couldn’t just drop it.”

“You don’t know me very well.”

She felt a twinge of regret that perhaps she would never know him well. “Then I guess we’re even.”
 

He turned on the radio, and relieved, Bailey concentrated on the old Madonna tune, thankful to have something else to focus on.

But then he reached over and shut it off again. “I have one question, and then I’ll never mention it again.”

She bit back a weary groan. “Can I get that in writing?”

“Now who’s being insulting?”

“You know you’re pushing your luck, right?”

“I’m willing to push it.”

“Is that how you got shot?”

He tapped the brakes a little too hard, and she mentally checked “turn the tables on Cole Goodman” off her to-do list.

“That’s not—”

“If you say it’s none of my business,” she cut in, “you’ll only look like a hypocrite.”

He stared out the windshield at yet another red traffic light, his mouth set in a grim line. She thought he wasn’t going to respond, and that was fine with her. Really, it was.
 

But then he said, “I refused to give up on someone I cared about, and I earned a bullet in the back for it.”
 

A surge of horror turned her stomach. “Oh, God. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“Hey, I owe you one, right?”

She stiffened all over again. Holy crap, this man was a piece of work. “You telling me something voluntarily is not the same as going behind my back. You’re not evening the score here.”

“So that’s what we’re doing. Keeping score.”

She groaned in frustration. “Fine. Tell me your story. Get it off your chest. Spill your guts. Whatever you want to call it. Do you want me to take notes?”

“You’d make a lousy shrink, Chase.”

“Turns out my rates are the lowest you’ll find, so quit complaining and get it over with.”

“Geez, the gentle prodding is breaking down my barriers one by one. I don’t think I can resist for much longer.”

She bit into her bottom lip to stop her next snarky retort. She would have to learn how to disable the buttons he knew to push. “Are we almost there?”

He grinned askance at her. “You mean you’re not enjoying our banter?”

“You’re too much work, Goodman.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right. Your type is the pretty but dumb guy.”

She winced at the reference to Daniel. “You’re doing a good job of being dumb right now.”

“Why? Because I’m challenging you?”

“If you think ‘challenging’ and ‘annoying’ mean the same thing, yeah, you’re challenging me big-time.”

“Why do I annoy you so much? You have a reputation for being easygoing and laidback. Yet, I get anywhere near you, and you’re one big prickly—” He broke off and pressed his lips together.

“Bitch? Is that what I am? One big prickly
bitch
?”

He rolled his eyes in disgust. “Kind of, yeah. Seems I bring that out in you. All because of who my friends are … were.”

He sounded so sad that tears unexpectedly stung her eyes. She turned her head to look out the window so he wouldn’t see. He was right. God, he was right. She was punishing him for knowing Daniel. Doing to him exactly what he’d done to her before her mugging had thrown them together. Talk about looking like a hypocrite.

She clenched her jaw against the regret and frustration. She didn’t need this, damn it. Not right now. She had much bigger problems. “Can we go back to the tense silence?”

He answered by reaching over and flipping the radio back on.

Chapter 30

As James Chase stared out at the water, he sifted the fine white sand of Kendall Falls Beach through his fingers.
 

A year ago, he’d been filled with hope. He’d done his time, but he still carried the overwhelming guilt. He always would. He’d killed his father, after all. Almost killed his sister.

But a year ago the future had still looked reasonably promising. He’d been looking forward to getting to know his son. He’d even had a career plan.
 

And then it had all fallen apart.

How quickly it happened still shook him.

One lie on a job application.
 

Have you ever been convicted of a felony?

He’d placed his X in the box labeled “no.” And sealed his fate.

He wondered what would have happened if he’d been honest. Maybe the company would have simply asked what had happened. He could have told them, and that would have been the end of it. It wasn’t as if they would have to worry that he might commit involuntary manslaughter against the company.

Perhaps he still would have gotten the job. He would have been able to settle his debt with the loan shark. He wouldn’t have had to go to Payne Kincaid for money. And he wouldn’t have pissed Kincaid off for the last time.

Focusing on a fishing boat in the distance, James wondered what the hell he was going to do now.
 

Kincaid was determined to force him out of town. To protect Austin and Bailey.

If he was totally honest with himself, he couldn’t very well blame the man. On the outside looking in, James was the kind of guy who would never learn from his mistakes. He was destined to make them over and over again, dragging down anyone who was foolish enough to count on him. Such as Bailey and Austin.

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