Finding Kate Huntley (12 page)

More shouting could be heard from the Matthews’ house.

“Do you think Barbara and Brooklynn will be okay?”

“I don’t know,” Jack said, his voice troubled, “but there’s not much we can do about it. After we leave, I’ll have A.J. pay them a visit.”

Kate nodded, relieved to know they could do something, even if it meant waiting a few days. “No wonder the poor girl dresses like that. She’s trying her damnedest to get attention. Something I never had to worry about when my parents were alive.”

“Your father was quite a man...a great scientist and I’m sure an admirable father, too.”

She followed Jack toward the house. “The best father a girl could ask for.”

Jack stopped outside the sliding glass door. “Tell me about him.”

“Right after you get out of those wet clothes.”

“Good idea.” After Barney went inside, Jack waited for Kate to enter. She put a hand to his jaw. “Are you alright?”

He put his hand over hers. For the first time since she’d met him, he looked distant and sad. “I’ll be fine. Just tired and hungry. I saw eggs and cheese in the refrigerator. Help yourself while I get changed.”

Less than ten minutes later, they were both opening and shutting kitchen cupboards in search of a frying pan.

“I don’t think A.J.’s sister does much cooking.”

“I’d have to agree,” Jack said, spying another empty drawer.

“Here’s a wok,” Kate said excitedly, hoping to pull Jack out of his doldrums. “This used to be my father’s favorite cooking utensil.”

“You don’t say?”

“I do say.” She put the wok on one of the four burners and turned the knob. “My father could work magic with a wok. You name it, he could make it. In fact,” Kate said, “I remember him once telling me he yearned to be a famous chef when he was a child.” Kate laughed. “He said he had become so adept at mixing ingredients in the kitchen that he excelled in all of the lab classes he took in college. To my father, beakers and flasks were no different than measuring cups and colanders.”

It warmed Kate’s heart to hear Jack chuckle as he pulled eggs from the refrigerator. “Let’s find out if you take after the old man,” he said.

Kate took an egg from Jack and cracked it into the pan before heading back to the refrigerator to gather a few more ingredients. “At night he used to tuck me in and recite recipes instead of goodnight stories.”

“As in, turn the oven to three-fifty, mix three eggs, two cups of flour, and don’t forget the dash of oregano?” Jack asked.

“Exactly.” She cracked another egg into the wok, added a splash of milk, and stirred the eggs with a fork. “His favorite recipes were salad dressings, anything from your basic coleslaw dressing to prickly pear puree. He said if he ever changed careers, it would be the Lyso-Lemon Dressing recipe that would make him famous.”

“What was it?”

She added cheese to the eggs as she tried to recall. She shook her head. “It was one of his more playful recipes. Hmmm...something like, a drop of Lyso-lemon juice, a cup of vinegar...” Kate smiled at Jack’s grimace.

“Lyso-lemon juice?”

“You would have to know my father. He was always joking, you know, not your stereotypical serious-minded scientist, that’s for sure.”

He retrieved two plates from a cupboard. “Go on,” he said. “How does the salad recipe end?”

“Well, after adding a few drops of Lyso-lemon juice, cup of vinegar, dash of Ribo-Rosemary nucleas or fresh minced tarragon, stir well. Add one spoonful of superfine ground mustard and whisk gently until emulsified. Add the usual adjuvants and thimersol. Pour over crisp lettuce wedges and...damn!”

“What’s wrong?”

Kate flipped the omelet and pointed the spatula at him. “There was something else. I always used to forget this part and it drove my father crazy. He would tickle me, we would laugh, and eventually I would fall asleep.” She shook her head. “I can never remember the last little ingredient.”

“Maybe I could tickle it out of you,” he said, moving toward her, his fingers splayed, ready for the attack.

She kept the spatula directed at him. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Oh, I’m thinking about it,” Jack said, his melancholy mood all but changed as he came up fast behind her until she felt his chest against her back. His hands slid around her waist, pulling her close against him. “Why now, Jack, but not before?” she asked, her voice a whisper.

“Because we weren’t ready.”

One of his hands left her side and she heard the click of the stove being shut off and the wok being moved, but she didn’t see a thing. Her eyes were closed and all she could think about were his long fingers pressed firmly against her hips. “We’re ready now?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said as he slid his palms lower over her hips and thighs. He removed the tie from her robe. She moved against him. He pulled off her robe and nuzzled her neck. “We’re definitely ready.”

A moment ago all she could think about was food; now she just wanted Jack. She turned about, grabbed hold of the bottom of his shirt and pulled it up and over his head. She kissed his collarbone and chest as she tugged at the button on his jeans. She felt ridiculously frantic, as if the clock was ticking and they were running out of time. Afraid he might stop her again, she unzipped his pants but that’s as far as she got before he took her by the waist, picked her up and placed her on the granite counter. The smooth stone felt cool against her lacey covered buttocks. Her legs straddled his waist and their mouths came together in a hungry frenzy.

He pulled his mouth away and left a tingly trail of kisses across her neck, between her breasts and over her navel. Her breathing grew ragged. She let out a low growl and used her feet to slide his pants to his ankles. His desire was clear. She reached out to touch him just as the doorbell rang.

They were cursed.

Jack had his pants on in a millisecond. He tossed Kate her robe, grabbed his gun from the table, and stood rigid by the door. “Who is it?”

Kate muttered obscenities as she tried to get the robe turned right-side out. She slipped the robe on and used her fingers to keep it shut while she picked up the sash from the floor.

“Umm—it’s me—Brooklynn—from next door,” came a timid voice from outside.

Jack looked over his shoulder at Kate, making sure she was dressed before he opened the door. She couldn’t read the expression on his face, but if he was feeling even half of what she was feeling, he was frustrated too. He hid the gun inside the potted plant near the door.

Of all the rotten luck
. Kate used her fingers to brush tangles out of her hair before she took hold of the spatula and began pushing the eggs around the inside of the wok.

Jack opened the door.

Kate gave the teenager a quick wave of her utensil, trying her best to look relaxed even though she was anything but. Her body still hummed with the excitement of having Jack’s hands and mouth on her bare flesh. The sooner Jack talked to the girl and found out what the problem was, the sooner they could get back to what they were doing.

Jack raked a hand through tousled hair. “What can we do for you, Brooklynn?”

“It’s my dad. He has a drinking problem...one of the reasons Mom brought us here.” She sighed. “Mom thought a long trip away from home would fix everything. She was wrong. He’s drunk again. My little brother is scared. I thought maybe...since you two looked sort of normal...that you might let us stay here for a few hours, at least until my dad’s feeling better.”

Kate felt disappointed, extremely frustrated, and guilty all at once.

Jack looked at Kate. “What do you think, Kate?”

“I thought her name was Samantha?”

Jack rubbed his temple. “It is...Samantha Kate Reed.” He looked at Kate and lifted a tense brow. “Um, Sam, would it be a problem if they stayed here for a few hours?”

“No-no, of course not,” Kate said, her gaze drifting longingly over his bare chest. A big tease is what he was. “We had nothing planned,” Kate said before forcing a smile. “Nothing going on here.”

A flash of disappointment crossed Jack’s handsome features before he turned back to Brooklynn. “Why don’t you get your brother and come on over.”

“He’s right here. Adam,” she called. “Come on. They said its okay. They aren’t doing anything.”

Adam walked inside, his shoulders hunched. Kate guessed Adam to be younger than Brooklynn by at least three years. His long stringy hair touched his bony shoulders. Only one piercing punctured his eyebrow and a skeleton tattoo the size of a quarter decorated his neck.

The kid didn’t make eye contact with either of them. Jack tousled the boy’s hair, and if looks could kill, Jack would have fallen over dead. Jack led the kids into the family room and showed them the assortment of DVDS and board games. He told Adam to go ahead and use the computer when he saw the kid staring at it.

When Jack finally made his way back into the kitchen, Kate threw his shirt at him. “Put that on, will you?”

Chapter 16

Dr. Elizabeth Kramer stared out at the Pacific Ocean, hoping the gentle lapping of the waves upon the shore would help douse some of the fire bubbling in her veins. “I told you never to come to my house,” she said to the man standing nearby.

“I left three messages,” Roger told her. “You can’t ignore me as you do all your other lap dogs. I want out and I want out today.”

She let go of the railing encircling the balcony and turned to face Roger. The same reptile said to have tempted Eve was tattooed across his chest, revealed through the V of his open shirt. “You want out? What does that mean? This isn’t the mafia. You don’t hurt innocent people, and then come traipsing around my home. Call Lou if you have a problem.”

“Nothing has gone as planned. Lou is about as easy to get a hold of as the Wizard in Oz. I need help.”

Elizabeth gritted her teeth. Roger Cott was the most audacious, unreasonable man she’d ever met. “An investigator was here asking me questions about Amy Long,” she told him. “Apparently, she’s in critical condition. He wanted to know how she came to live and work with me,” she said, her voice amazingly calm considering the resentment she felt building inside of her.

“It’s standard procedure for an investigator to come calling. You know that.”

“If the girl talks, you’re on your own. Lou will not be happy.”

The overconfident man hardly flinched. “I want half a million dollars put in my offshore account before the end of the week. Otherwise, I’ll have no choice but to ask Harrison to shut down your operation.”

“My operation?” There was no stopping hot air from spewing out this time. She looked past him and into the house to make sure there weren’t any servants standing about with nothing better to do than to listen in on her private conversation.

All was clear, so she came up close to Roger, breathing in his cologne. “Lou told me that Dr. Forstin might have left a disc behind.”

“What about it?”

She sighed. “If there is a disc and you and your friends were at the lab the night of Forstin’s death, I’d say you were in no position to threaten me or anyone else.”

He pointed a finger at her. “I’ll worry about the disc, Elizabeth. You just worry about getting the money into my account.”

He turned and marched off.

His arrogance didn’t stop her from admiring his backside as he headed toward the French doors. Foolish man.

Leaning closer to the monitor, Jack read an article about AidVac and the death of the two inventor scientists Kate had talked about on the plane. Both men were family men. Michael Lang had been the inventor of AidVac, the man killed in the hit and run.

Jack scrolled down and skimmed over a copy of an old newspaper clipping. Interesting.

“Witness Robert Conrad, who was in the vicinity when the accident occurred, told Officer Gibson that Mr. Lang was behaving in an irrational manner before he ran into the street without looking either way.”

Once again, Robert Conrad’s name was coming up. Although Conrad had the social skills of a rat and Jack never liked the guy, he never meant him any harm either. He certainly never intended for the man to die. He hadn’t told Kate about Conrad earlier because he figured she had enough on her mind. Another clue connecting the FBI to the death of yet another AIDS scientist would only make her lose sleep, so he figured he’d keep this tidbit to himself.

Jack stood. He’d taken a long nap earlier, and he felt restless. He couldn’t stop thinking about the disc. He needed to get to Forstin’s lab. But how was he going to leave without Kate noticing? About to leave the guestroom, he stopped at the door to listen. He could hear the kids talking to Kate in the family room.

“I still don’t get it,” Brooklynn said. “How does Fred remember the cards so well?”

“He has some weird memory chip inside his brain,” Kate told her, making Jack smile.

“He has a chip in his brain?” Adam asked. “Cool.”

“It’s not a chip,” Jack said, joining them. “It’s known as eidetic memory. Mozart possessed eidetic memory, so did Bobby Fischer, a chess genius.”

“That’s not fair,” Brooklynn said. “That’s cheating.”

“Just because you have the exact opposite of eidetic memory doesn’t mean he cheated,” Adam argued.

Brooklynn snatched a pillow from the couch and tossed it at her brother’s head.

“Stop it,” Adam complained. “I’m trying to teach Mrs. Reed how to use a computer, and she doesn’t exactly have eidetic memory either.”

Mrs. Reed?
It took Jack a second to remember that Mrs. Reed was the name he’d given Barbara Matthews. Jack had found another laptop in A.J.’s sister’s room, which he’d set up for Kate and the kids to use.

Kate looked away from the computer screen long enough to scowl at Adam.

“Now put the cursor on the item you want to research and hit enter,” Adam told her.

It took Kate a while to get the mouse to move the cursor, but she finally managed to do as Adam said. It took her another moment to remember to click Enter.

Kate smiled at Adam. He was right. She definitely didn’t have eidetic memory. Within seconds everything she’d ever wanted to know about Haiti popped up on the screen. There it was in full color. Home. She tried not to get all choked up as she read the first couple of pages. Seeing Haiti made her wish she was there right now. She had seen enough. “Thanks for the computer lesson. That was fun.”

“Sure you don’t want to play solitaire again?”

“No. It’s all yours.”

Kate stood and headed for the master bedroom. Jack followed close behind. Brooklynn was engrossed in an old Clint Eastwood movie while Adam fiddled with the computer.

Kate entered the master bedroom first. Jack stepped inside and shut the door. When Kate looked at Jack, she realized she’d been looking at him all day in a whole new light...as a man instead of a rookie agent...as a friend instead of foe.

Jack had been great with the kids: patient, understanding, and caring, questioning them on their “situation at home” and yet not to the point of being annoying or pushy. He had a way with kids, a way with people...a way with her. He made her want to believe him when he promised her everything would work out.

“Listen,” Jack said. “There’s something I need to do tonight and I was hoping you would stay here with the kids until I return.”

The crisp white T-shirt he had on hugged his chest and arms in all the right places. His hair had grown since she’d first met him, and he’d finally broken down and borrowed a pair of khaki shorts from A.J.’s brother-in-law. She crossed her arms. “What’s up?”

“I need to go to Dr. Forstin’s lab. I want to find out if he left any clues behind that could ultimately clear my name.”

Kate went to the dresser and began opening drawers and shuffling through clothes. She found a pair of dark stretch pants, a black long-sleeved cotton shirt, and a pair of dark socks. Next, she went to the walk-in closet and returned with a pair of tennis shoes that were a size too big.

“I’m going with you. What do you suggest we do about those kids?” she asked as she slid the sundress she was wearing up and over her head.

Jack started to say something, but stopped to watch her dress instead.

She slipped on the shirt and raised a questioning brow at him when she caught his gaze. “What’s wrong?”

“I have a hard time concentrating with you doing a striptease.”

She laughed. “Trust me. This is not a striptease. I know how to do a striptease. This is called getting dressed.”

Jack didn’t look convinced, nor did he look away.

She stepped into the stretch pants and pulled them over her hips. “There. I’m dressed. Happy?”

“Not really.”

“Now what about the kids?” she asked again. “Shouldn’t they be getting home?”

“Let them be.” Jack looked thoughtful for a moment before he added, “I used to have a friend when I was younger whose father was a mean drunk. I’m sure Barbara Matthews will come and get them when she feels it’s safe.”

“Okay,” Kate said as she plunked down on the edge of the bed to put on socks and shoes.

Jack rubbed his chin. “So, what’s going on? What’s with the Johnny Cash outfit?”

“If you’re going to Dr. Forstin’s lab, then I’m going with you. I can’t sit around here and babysit. I need to do something. I need answers, too. Don’t even think about trying to stop me.”

Jack smiled. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Kate finished tying her shoes and said, “I’ll tell the kids not to wait up.”