Kiss Me Awake (18 page)

He was.

Why did he need it? He had billionaire donors carrying him. Was he losing their support? In the real world, eight and a half million dollars was a large sum, but in a political race with players of this magnitude it was ice-cream money.

“And how would we do this?” she asked. “How would I know that the name you give me is legitimate?”

“That’s where trust comes in.”

Her laugh was forced. “Trust you?” Did he think she was naïve?

“You trusted me once when you asked for her name. Didn’t you assume then that I would be honest enough to give you the correct one? This is no different.”

“It doesn’t matter because I don’t have your money. I never did.” Her voice shook, and she cursed him under her breath, resenting the power he held over her.

“Dennison sent you the codes,” he said. “And the passwords. I’ve read the emails.”

“And he’s dead. To kill a man in cold blood like that…”

His voice was ice. “Be careful what you say. Young women who live alone should mind their manners.”

“Or their fathers will have them killed?” She was trembling now, her voice strained to a high pitch. “Is that what you mean to say?”

She could sense his fury, feel his hatred.
No Father’s Day present for you next spring.

“It’s a shame you didn’t acquire your mother’s docile nature.”

Her heart tripped at his calculated words. It was his intent to entice. He knew her desire and toyed with it like a master manipulator. She wanted to know everything about her mother; what she looked like, where she grew up, who she was. But out of a million dpi, his depiction of her character was the equivalent of one dot. It wasn’t much to build a picture on.

“I assume you were the one who ended your association with her then?” No meek being would dare walk away from this man. Not without a direct order to do so.

“I loved her.” There was a lull in his anger. His voice took on a sorrow and a tenderness she didn’t recognize, and would have sworn on a Bible didn’t exist.

“Why are you telling me this?”

He sighed. “I don’t know.”

The cool tile sent a chill through her bare feet and up her spine. Or was it this rare moment of honesty between them?

“What’s her name?” she asked. “I have a family somewhere. I’d like to know who they are.”

“She’s dead.”

It was a sucker punch that left her winded. Nothing could have prepared her for that. Why hadn’t he told her before? The sting of her eyes, the ache in her chest threw her off-kilter. “Was it, was it recent? H-h-how long?”

“A long time ago.” No specifics, no details for her to fill in the blanks and make sense of it all. Was he lying to her?

“How did it happen?” she asked.

“You ask entirely too many questions. Don’t you know ignorance is bliss? The less you know, the better off you’ll be.”

“What about my grandparents? Aunts, uncles, cousins?”
But I’d like to start with my mother’s name
.

His tone hardened. “I made you an offer. The ball is in your court.” The detached politician she was familiar with had wrestled the sentimental man to the ground.

“I can’t give you what I don’t have. You’re suing Baseel for it…and me. I’m sure you’ll collect somehow.” He had enough judges in his pocket to make that a certainty.

“There is no lawsuit. Who told you that?”

She wouldn’t be sharing that information with him. Besides, didn’t he just tell her that ignorance was bliss? The less
he
knew, the better.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. No longer willing to play his game, she hung up the phone, suddenly plagued by Spencer’s remark.

“Looking back won’t give you what you’re searching for. It isn’t about the past. It’s about right now.”
Again he was right. But still she longed for an identity that was legitimate, one that was woven into her cells and stamped into her DNA. 

Weary, she dropped down on the stool at the counter, tension pulling at the muscles behind her eyes until they ached from the strain. Her mother was dead. He could have told her sooner, though it wouldn’t have changed anything. 

The phone trilled, startling her. It was Auggie. She started to transfer the call to her voice mail account then thought better of it. It might be important.

“Where have you been?” he asked. “I’ve been trying to reach you all day.” The five missed calls blinking on her phone were probably his.

“Hello to you, too,” she said.

“I sent you to do a job, and you disappeared on me. What’s going on with you?”

She pressed a palm to her forehead.
Lance
. She never got back to Auggie about Lance. “I’m sorry. It hasn’t been a good day for me, and I forgot to call you. But there is nothing to tell. I didn’t get anywhere. Lance caught on to what I was doing and called me on it.”

“Didn’t I teach you how to play the game, chica?”

“You did.” But she’d never mastered the skills required to play and win. “It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. He’s with internal affairs.” She covered her mouth. She hadn’t meant to let that slip.

“Is that what he told you?”

“You sound like you don’t believe him.”

“I didn’t say that.” His throat was raspy and he cleared it. “Did he ask about the money?”

“I think he believes I have it,” she said.

“Well, if he’s really internal affairs, he’ll be looking into the rest of us too.”

“I guess. But how long are they going to drag this out?”

“Until they find it,” he said. “Have you tossed names around? Considered who might have it?”

“I’ve tried, but I can’t believe anyone at Baseel who had access would have taken it.” Would have let her be investigated for their crime and not spoken up—or would have at least returned it.

She said, “What if Dennison cleaned out the accounts after he sent us the information? He knew he was going to die, and the amount Gale had amassed was more than enough to take care of Dennison’s family for the rest of their lives. His giving us access might have been an act of genius—setting us up to take the blame while no one even considers that his wife might have it.”

“Wow. I’m impressed.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “I never considered that,” he said.

Theory or fact, it should be looked into, but she didn’t have the nerve to broach such a sensitive subject when their grief was still fresh. It didn’t seem right.

“
Yeah, well, when it’s your hide they want to put in jail you start thinking outside the box.”

She turned at the sound of snagging claws digging into the fabric of her damask accent chair. The kitten was going to ruin it. She darted across the room and snatched up the cat, cuddling its furry head under her chin.

“I’m sorry about the tape,” she said.

“Yeah, well, without Ray it was probably worthless anyway.” His admission surprised her.

“By the way,” Auggie said, “Kevin left you a note at the front desk. He came by. He wasn’t happy when I told him you weren’t in. He thinks I was covering for you.”

“What did it say? I know you read it.” The kitten purred and she nuzzled it against her chest.

“Yeah, you know me too well. It was pretty sappy, by the way.” She could hear the rustling of papers. “Here it is. It says, ‘Love is the closest thing we have to magic. Yours always, Kev.’”

It was another line from a movie. It had to be. The man was aggravating. Even after their talk he still dismissed the idea of friendship and went straight for relationship. “Just throw it away,” she said. “Are you still at the office?”

“Yep. But, I’m about ready to take off.”

“Is Lance in?”

“I haven’t seen him. Why?”

“One of us should search his office, see if he has the tape.”

“One of us meaning me, right?” He chuckled at her silence. “It’s already done. I didn’t find anything. He’s not stupid. He destroyed it the minute he discovered what was in his hands.”

Why? Why would he destroy it? Why would he undermine the case? She spun at the ringing doorbell. “Gotta go. Someone’s at the door.”

Outside her window, a man who looked to be in his forties stood pointing his finger at her.
Me?
She mouthed the word. He understood and shook his head, pointing lower.

The kitten?

He nodded.

She brushed the top of its head with her lips. “So, you’re not a stray after all.”

She opened the door and the man was standing uncomfortably close to the threshold. His eyes were brown. Mud brown. His face was full and round and was much too close to hers. He adjusted the ball cap on his head. A size too small, it failed to cover an odd tan line that curved in a low arc across his wide forehead.

His arms shot out and she jerked back, stepping out of his reach. What was he doing?

He gave her a scolding look, his brows raised. “My cat?” he said, informing her in two words what his intentions were.

Heat crept into her face. She felt foolish.

“May I?” he asked, his tone snide, he gave her a lofty look as if she were stupid. She plunked the cat into his open palms, and he tucked it like a sack of potatoes under his left arm.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for this cat.” 

She looked down at his foot. It was resting inside the doorway now. Did he mean to keep her from closing the door? Jaida slid her hand lower and gripped the knob.

He didn’t move. He had the kitten, why wasn’t he leaving? Was Marilyn watching? She hoped so. Her eyes darted to the left, but from inside the door, she didn’t have a clear view of her neighbor’s window.

He removed the tattered ball cap from his head and swiped an arm over his brow then replaced it. “Could I trouble you for a glass of water?” he asked.  “It’s a bit hot out here.”

She eyed him, uncertain if she should turn her back on him. Something about him gave her the creeps.

Jaida said nothing and then nodded, pushing the door partially closed before she went to the kitchen. Her gaze darted to the drawer that held her weapon. Could she use it if she had to? Pull the trigger and put a deadly bullet into another human being?

She didn’t want to find out. She skipped the ice, filled a glass with tap water, and was back at the front door in less than a minute.

She handed him the glass. “How did you know I had your cat?”

“Actually I didn’t. I’ve been walking up and down the boardwalk, knocking on doors. Lucky for me you happened to be holding it.”

He could see in her window from the boardwalk? She gave him a skeptical look. Did he have binoculars? Was he a peeping Tom?

He drank the water down. With his head tipped back, she took a better look at the strange tan line, trying to recall what it looked like when he took his hat off. His balding scalp was pale compared to the rest of him. Did he wear a toupee?

“Looks like he wears a rug.”
That’s how Marilyn described the man who was snooping around her house. Was this the same man? She studied his fingers pressed into the crystal tumbler. The prints would be a clear set. Her fingers twitched. She wanted to grab it from him, but she didn’t have to. He was already handing it back.

“Thank you for the water, and again for taking care of this little fellow.”

Jaida tossed him a quick smile and closed the door. She slid the deadbolt in place, relieved when she heard the solid click locking him out.

She stood at the window and made sure he left the premises then set the glass on the counter and set the alarm, Gale’s warning still ringing in her ears. First thing in the morning she would run those prints.

J
aida screamed. Her eyes jerked back and forth in her head. Blackness descended, the weight of it bearing down on her chest until it sealed the air from her lungs.

    
She gasped. Writhing, she thrust the crushing pressure from her body. And then it was gone. The evil fled, the bees had chased it away. 

She swatted a limp hand where they swarmed about her head. Livid little creatures, they ranted, the noise swelling in her ears. She pressed clenched fists to the sides of her head and shook it. “Go away.”

But they were persistent, a nuisance that plagued her until their murmuring pulled her from this present torment and into another realm. Her eyelids, pinched tight, relaxed and then fluttered opened, the ceiling over her bed no longer dark with evening shadows, but awash in sunlight. 

Another nightmare.
Exhausted, Jaida turned her head on the pillow, damp from the hair that clung to her neck and the sides of her face. She reached for the alarm. With the push of a button, she silenced the throng of bees.

Her nightgown was twisted around her hips and thighs. She swept her fingers over her collarbone and inside the well of her neck where fear had collected in a shallow wet patch. She had to get up, had to go to work.