Mad, Bad and Blonde (15 page)

He opened the container with his food and sampled one of the offerings before tossing the rest in a nearby trash container. Faith was right. He wasn’t really a sushi guy. He was a burger and fries guy. A steak and potato guy. Although he did have a secret love of broccoli that he never told anyone about because that was a dorky vegetable and not a manly Marine vegetable like . . . carrots.

Yeah, carrots. They were supposed to help with night vision. Not as much as night vision goggles, of course. Vegetables couldn’t compete with the tech support of the U.S. Marine Corps.

Still . . . he did have a fondness for broccoli. And that was entirely his dad’s fault. Because when Caine was a kid, his dad told him that broccoli was really a bunch of small trees that a mad scientist had shrunk.

As if on cue, a little rug rat maybe three years old ran up to Caine. “Wanna see my dog-dog?”

Not knowing what a dog-dog was, Caine froze for a second before seeing the stuffed animal that the little boy was waving around.

“Victor!” His dad raced after him and scooped the kid up in his arms.

The image of father and son hit Caine hard. He remembered being swung in circles by his father on a warm summer evening. “More!” he’d yell again and again.

His dad would swing him around while laughing and telling him about centrifugal force. His dad was always a scientist at heart. Caine couldn’t even count the number of times his dad would incorporate a lesson about a chemical equation into playtime. He could still hear his dad’s voice saying, “Hydrogen is the first element on the periodic table . . . not to be confused with a picnic table.”

Yeah, that was his dad. Karl the chemist comic Hunter.

Caine’s life was forever changed by his mother’s death when he was ten. His mother had been sick for several years before that—in and out of hospitals fighting cancer. She’d always wanted to go to Italy to visit her cousins there but didn’t live long enough to see that dream happen. So she’d made Caine promise he’d go to visit them someday, which was why he was in Italy a few weeks ago.

He’d also promised his mom that he’d look after his dad. He’d failed with that job. Her death had devastated his dad, and the chemistry jokes had stopped for a long, long time. Instead, his father had become immersed in his work, and Caine had been left alone a lot.

Caine had joined the Marines right out of high school. His dad had supported his decision. He’d felt bad leaving his dad on his own, but Karl hadn’t seemed to mind, claiming it gave him more time to devote to his work. Work that Caine had never really understood, despite his father’s best efforts to educate him.

He’d wondered if his dad might not remarry, but that never happened. “Your mom was the love of my life,” he’d told Caine. “The hydrogen to my oxygen. No other molecule or woman will do.”

Seeing what the loss of his mom had done to his dad made Caine determined not to display an equal vulnerability. Love killed something in you. Made you weak, not strong. These were the life lessons he learned. That, along with knowing the atomic weight of hydrogen.

Not that any of those things could help him now. He needed the skills he’d learned in the Marines: how to lock up his emotions to the horrors he saw around him. He’d heard a saying in the Corps—he wasn’t sure who said it—Death smiles at everyone. The Marines smile back.

But his dad hadn’t smiled back. He’d taken his own life.

Guilt shot through Caine. He should have done more, should have done
something.
Gritting his teeth, he refused to give in to the dark emotions eating at him. He couldn’t afford to go there now. He had to stay focused.

Caine couldn’t bring his father back to life. The best he could do was to clear his father’s name.

Because he knew with every fiber of his being that his father hadn’t sold corporate secrets for money. No way. He refused to believe that. And he was the only one who could prove them wrong.

That meant Caine had to keep his eyes on the mission and off Faith.

“Are you ready for your first case?” Abs asked Faith at work the next morning.

“Absolutely.”

“You need to do an asset search on Douglas W. Haywood, former subprime mortgage broker. He claims he’s broke and can’t pay child support for his three kids. He and his wife, our client, are going through an acrimonious divorce. She’s in small conference room A. Interview her and see what other information you can get on him.” Abs handed over the file, which listed the bare minimum information: employment record, credit report, social security number and date of birth. “Here. You’ll need these.” Abs gave her a box of Kleenex. “She’s a crier.”

Faith entered the room to find a petite woman with short brown hair and red-rimmed eyes.

“Hello, Mrs. Haywood. My name is Faith West, and I’ll be handling your case.”

Candy broke into sobs.

Faith handed her the box of Kleenex. “I assure you, I’m good at what I do.”

“Can . . . you. . . . break . . . his kneecaps?”

“I can do better than that. If he has any money, I’ll find it.”

“He’s great a hiding things. He hid the fact that he was having an affair. I was totally clueless. I always let him handle the money. He wanted it that way. ‘Don’t worry, baby,’ he’d tell me. ‘I’ve got it all under control.’” Candy started sobbing again.

“I’m sorry.” Faith patted her on the shoulder. “Let’s see what we can do here. Do you think you can answer a few questions?”

“Maybe.”

“If your husband was going to hide money, does he have any family or close friends who would help him?”

“He has a huge family, all as selfish as he is.”

“I need you to write down their names, addresses and dates of birth if you know them. I also need you to confirm this is his social security number and his birth date.”

“Yes, it is,” Candy said before starting to write on the yellow legal pad Faith gave her.

Several minutes later, Faith asked, “What else can you tell me about your husband?”

“That he’s a cheating asshole.”

“Obviously, but I meant other information, like what are his hobbies or interests?”

“His only interest is to have an affair with a twenty-year-old Hooters girl.”

Faith checked the file. There was a huge mortgage due on the house they lived in, which was close to foreclosure. Three luxury cars, all in his name, all late on their payments. A time-share in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico.

“Has he taken any trips lately?” Faith asked.

“We’ve been separated for three months, so I don’t know.”

“How about before that?” Faith said. “What was the last trip you know about, and where did he go?”

“To our time-share in Cabo. For Christmas. All of us went. Our last family vacation.” Candy started crying again. “I’m. . . . sor-sorry.” She hiccupped. “Damn. Now I . . . I’ve got hiccups.”

“Can I get you something? How about a glass of cold water?”

“To pour over my head?”

Faith smiled. “Hey, you’ve got a sense of humor. Good. That’s going to help us with your case.”

“How?”

“By keeping you sane through all this insanity.”

“Humor helps?”

“It’s a powerful aid. So are we. We’re on your side, and we’re here to help you.”

“What if the bastard really is broke? What if all the money is gone?”

Okay, here’s where worst-case scenarios came into play. But Faith found it easier to apply that philosophy to her own life than to apply it to others. Especially a mom with three kids.

“Let’s not cross that bridge just yet. Let me see what I can find first. Information is power.”

“I could use some power about now,” Candy admitted.

Faith spent the next fifteen minutes giving Candy a pep talk. When Candy left, Abs stopped by Faith’s cubicle. “So you survived Candy the Crier.”

“Doesn’t it bother you? To see someone in pain and panic?”

“You can’t get emotionally involved in every case. You can’t get emotionally involved in
any
of them.”

“Right. Of course not. I know that. Otherwise you’d burn out pretty fast.”

Faith spent the rest of the day trying to track down any hidden assets Haywood might have stashed. All the while, she reminded herself that information was power. That applied to Faith’s interactions with Caine as well. Dumping sparkling water on him didn’t solve the problem. Proving the case against his father was sound was the only way to get Caine out of her life.

Saturday morning, Faith stared at the pages spread over her living room floor—a low-tech technique she’d developed for doing library projects. She was a visual thinker. She couldn’t just read the information on her laptop. She needed to see what she was dealing with here. The file marked
Hunter, Karl
had plenty in it.

She’d read every page, but now she just needed to get the big picture somehow. She had a pile for each of the four people involved in the project: Karl and two other chemists along with a lab assistant. The person of most interest to her was the young lab assistant, Weldon Gronski.

Unfortunately, it seemed that Weldon didn’t want to be found. He’d quit his job and moved several times in the past two years. He didn’t appear to have any close friends, and none of his former coworkers had any idea where to find him. But she had an idea.

Weldon was a fan of vintage science fiction movies, and a Chicago-area theater was doing a showing of the 1951 classic
The Day the Earth Stood Still.

Faith had a copy of Weldon’s various photo IDs. He didn’t change his appearance in any of them. He looked like what he was: a dorky science whiz with the taped glasses frames.

Later that afternoon, Faith watched the people entering the theater, searching for Weldon. Distracted as she was, she was startled when someone grabbed her by the elbow and hauled her around the corner into a quiet alley.

“Stop following me,” Caine growled.

“You’re the one following me.”

“Get over yourself. I’m investigating my father’s case.”

“So am I, and I have as much right to be here as you do,” Faith said.

“Beat it,” he growled, showing her his war face for the first time.

Faith had to admit his expression was very intimidating, but she wasn’t about to back down now.

Seeing that, Caine changed battle techniques, yanking Faith into his arms and kissing her.

Chapter Nine

The
kiss was meant to warn Faith off. Instead, it drew Caine in, making him want her even more. She was like a land mine, hitting him when he least expected it.

Faith put her hands on his shoulders as if to shove him away. Good. She needed to end this, because Caine couldn’t. Damn, she tasted fine. Why wasn’t she pushing him away?

Faith gripped his shoulders harder. Now. Now she’d end it, right?

But no. Just when he thought she’d break things off, she parted her lips wider and pulled him even closer.

He was a goner.

So was she.

Their kiss became deeper, hotter. He raked his hands through her silky hair, only coming up for air long enough to change the angle of his mouth over hers before continuing the frantically intense lip-lock.

Things were rapidly spiraling out of control here. His hand was on her breast under her blouse, his thumb caressing her nipple through her sheer bra. She felt so damn good. His erection pressed tight against her.

She reached down to cup him through the placket of his jeans, her thumb grazing the bulge there.

He really should stop this. Soon. Before he exploded. But what a way to go.

His pagan elemental brain wanted to have sex. His warrior Marine brain knew this was a bad idea but wanted to have sex anyway.

Strict self-discipline was needed right now. Caine knew he should fight this. After all, he was a highly trained pro at fighting—from hand-to-hand combat to urban warfare. So why was he having such a hard time dealing with Faith?

Hanging on to his last thread of control, Caine broke off the kiss before he took her right there in the alley.

The sight of her swollen lips made his heart and other parts of his anatomy ache. Her hair was mussed from his hands, and her eyes were hazy with the remnants of passion. But she pulled herself together quickly, smoothing her hands over her hair before putting them on her hips and glaring at him.