Authors: Barbara Freethy
“With you,” he muttered, urging her to straddle him.
She took him inside her body, the way she’d taken him inside her mouth. He filled up all the empty spaces with a delicious, impatient heat that made her nerves sing.
They moved together until they were both mindless, both crazed with passion, both spent.
It was a new day, a new beginning. They would face it together. Kayla just hoped it would be a better day. It certainly couldn’t be worse, could it?
12
Jenny opened the door to her apartment and flipped on the light in her living room. Her heart came to a crashing halt. Sitting on the couch as if he belonged there, as if he had every right to be there, was the man who’d stolen her heart more than a decade earlier. Tall, tan, blond, with brilliant blue eyes, and a sexy mouth that told more lies than truths, Evan was exactly as she remembered him. He was older, though. There were lines across his forehead and around his mouth. His features had filled out. He’d gone from a boy to a man. There was more than youthful mischief in his eyes now.
As he slowly stood up, her pulse began to race.
Why on earth had he come here? What could he possibly want from her now? She was afraid to ask either question.
“Hello, Jenny.” His voice took her back to a time when she’d longed to hear it just about every second of the day.
He was her first love, the first man she’d ever slept with, the first man she’d trusted, the first man she’d hated. She had to remember the hate, she told herself firmly. She had to remember the lies.
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“How did you get in?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Does it matter?”
“What do you want?”
“You told Nick about Will, didn’t you?”
He took a step closer to her. She couldn’t help but back up. She hit the door with her palms, and for a split second she contemplated the wisdom of trying to run. He would probably catch her. It might make him angry. Maybe it was better to stay put, to act as if he didn’t bother her, to play along.
“You never used to be this nervous around me,” Evan commented, his eyes shadowed with disappointment and a bit of anger. “Nick brainwashed you.”
“You gave him good reason to do that, not only twelve years ago, but this past weekend. You took his hard-earned money. You ruined him.”
“Not yet,” he said.
She didn’t like the implied threat. “Why can’t you leave him alone? Leave us alone? Isn’t it enough that you stole his money, that you broke my heart?” She felt it was important to remind him of that fact.
His gaze softened. “You were always so sweet, so innocent, so beautiful.” He ran his finger down her cheek.
She tried not to flinch, but he must have noticed the slight stiffening of her muscles, because his hand dropped to his side, and his voice hardened as he said,
“You’ve changed.”
“So have you, I’m sure. We’ve both grown up.”
“You never would have betrayed me before, telling Nick my secrets.” He paused for a long, tense moment.
“Don’t do that again, Jenny. Don’t make me mad.”
She had the terrible feeling he was already mad, that he’d fallen off the thin line he’d always walked between
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sanity and insanity. She’d known he had a dark side, but it wasn’t until all the lies came out that she saw how dark that side really was. “You were your own enemy, Evan.
You ran the scams. You did the crime. If Nick hadn’t caught you, someone else would have. It was only a matter of time.”
“He caught me because of you,” Evan said. “You let things slip.”
She shook her head. “No, I defended you. I trusted you. I never knew you were doing the things he’d accused you of doing. I thought Nick was wrong, and you were right. He didn’t change my mind about you — you did that yourself by your own actions.”
Evan blinked as if he were confused. Was there a chink in his armor? Was there a way to get through to this very slick, very cold man?
“Don’t you remember how in love I was with you?”
she pressed on. “I would have died for you. I almost did.”
“I never meant for you to get hurt. That was Nick’s fault, too.”
“It happened a long time ago. Let it rest, Evan. Leave Nick alone. Leave me alone.”
“I can’t do that. You have to know how good I am.”
“Why does it matter?”
“Because it does,” he said cryptically. “Because you’re the only one who ever mattered.”
She sucked in a quick, sharp breath and shook her head in denial. “Don’t say that.”
“It’s true, Jenny.”
“No, it’s not. You don’t have a heart. If you did, you would leave Nick alone.”
“I can’t do that, and it’s not because he got me thrown out of school or because he testified against me. It’s be-TA K E N
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cause of what else he took from me.” His gaze bored into hers, daring her to admit the truth.
“I don’t want to talk about that.”
“Nick doesn’t know, does he? All these years, you’ve kept our little secret.”
“I want you to leave,” she said.
Silence followed her words. She turned the doorknob behind her and opened it, stepping away from the door.
She had no idea what she would do if he didn’t go.
“All right, Jenny. I’ll leave. But I’ll be back. You and I — we aren’t finished yet.”
“I could get used to this,” Kayla said as Nick handed her a cup of coffee while she was still in bed. It was only eight o’clock in the morning, but he’d already showered.
His hair was damp, his cheeks a rosy red. She took a sip of the coffee, pleased to find it just the right strength, the perfect temperature. “Pretty good,” she said.
He leaned forward and kissed her on the mouth, then ran his tongue across his own lips. “Hmm, tasty.”
“You could get your own cup.”
“I like this better.” He stole another kiss, lingering this time, reminding her of the passion they’d shared the night before. The sparks were still smoldering. It wouldn’t take much for her to go up in flames again. But Nick was already pulling away, reaching for his shirt, sliding it over his head and shoulders.
“Why are you getting dressed so quickly?” she asked.
“Do you have somewhere to go?”
“Actually I do. I need to check in at work. I have some days off coming, and I want to make sure they know I’m taking them now. But first, you and I need to talk about the conversation you had with your grandmother.”
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She sat back against the headboard and sighed. “I was hoping it was all a bad dream.”
“Come on, spill it. What did she tell you that rattled you so badly?”
“Where do I begin?” she muttered. “It’s a long story.”
“Start at the beginning.”
“All right. Grandma told me about her relationship with Johnny. Apparently when he went to prison she was pregnant, and yes, he was the father.” She saw the jump of awareness in his eyes.
“Are you serious?”
“Yes. Johnny Blandino is my mother’s biological father, which makes him my biological grandfather.” No matter how many times she said it, it still didn’t sound right.
Nick let out a low whistle. “Whoa.”
“You can say that again. I’m related to a murderous criminal instead of a respected banker, who was also a wonderful grandfather.” She felt her eyes blur with tears, but she blinked them away. She needed to focus on the facts and not on the emotions. She’d deal with those later, much later.
“I’m sorry.” He paused. “But it doesn’t change who you are, Kayla.”
“Doesn’t it? I’ve always thought I knew where I came from, where I got my eyes or my smile or my nose. I was supposed to have inherited my grandfather’s knack for stained glass. I got the family gene — everyone said so —
but that was a lie. I didn’t inherit any genes for artistry. I probably inherited a talent for safecracking, only I never knew it.” Nick tried not to smile, but she could see it in his eyes. “It’s not funny, Nick.”
“No, of course it’s not. But it doesn’t matter who your
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grandfather was. The fact that you might not have inherited your talent doesn’t make it worth less. It probably makes it worth more, because you did it on your own.
You had it in you, and you still do. That hasn’t changed.”
“Everything else has. Every time I turn around my world starts spinning. I feel like I’m on a merry-go-round and I can’t get off. There’s something else, something you’ll probably find a bit more interesting than my personal family history.”
“What’s that?”
“I have to get up. I have to show you something. It’s in my purse. I think I left it in the living room.” She slid out of bed, grabbed her robe off the nail on the back of her door, and went downstairs, with Nick following close behind. She opened her purse and took out the ring box.
Lifting the lid, she said, “This key used to be in a small compartment within the case of the watch. Apparently Grandma took it out a while back.”
Nick took the key from the box and twirled it between his fingers. “Well, well. I don’t suppose she knows what it unlocks?”
“If she does, she isn’t saying. She claims she’s told me everything, but I’m not sure I believe her. She seems to tell me just what she thinks I need to know at that moment. When I told her my house had been broken into, and I couldn’t believe what else they could be looking for, she produced this key.”
“And why did she take it out of the watch?”
“I guess I should have asked her that.”
Nick considered the implications for a long moment.
“I wonder if Evan knows it exists or realizes that it’s not in the watch where it’s supposed to be.”
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“If he knew it was gone, he might have come back here to search for it.”
“The other watches probably have keys, too,” Nick mused. “Which means there’s something to be opened. A door? A safe?”
“It’s so small. It actually reminds me of the key I used to have to open my diary.”
His eyes lit up at her comment. “That’s interesting. I wonder if it does open a diary.”
“Hard to believe a rough, tough guy like Johnny would have a diary. It’s more of a thirteen-year-old-girl kind of thing.”
“True. Anything else?”
She nodded. “Grandma said that Johnny and his friends had one thing in common: They trusted their friends more than their families. She thinks that if the watches were passed down, it wasn’t through the blood-line. That’s why Johnny gave the watch to her and not to one of his sisters or his mother.”
Nick nodded. “I’m with you. So did she have an idea who these friends might be?”
“She said Nate dated a woman named Anne Marie Davis. Anne Marie’s daughter now runs a flower shop in North Beach called the Flower Boutique. We don’t know if Anne Marie is still alive or if the daughter knows anything, but we can go check it out.”
“And we will,” he said with an approving smile.
“Good work.”
“You can thank my grandmother, not me. She did the legwork, which is really interesting, since she told me to drop the matter.”
“What was her explanation?”
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“She’s trying to protect me. From what she wouldn’t say.”
“Why don’t you get dressed, Kayla. We’ll stop by my office and then go on to the flower shop. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
They got more than a little lucky. Connie Davis was at the flower shop, and while she knew nothing about any watches, she did call her mother, Anne Marie, who was alive and well and living in San Francisco. Anne Marie agreed to see them. Just after noon, they were ushered into her two-story home in Presidio Heights, an upscale part of the city.
A slight wisp of a woman, Anne Marie appeared to be in her late sixties, and had a shy smile and a gracious manner. After exchanging introductions and offering them refreshments, which they refused, she escorted them into her living room. Kayla was impressed by the beautiful, elegant room decorated with expensive antique furniture and amazing art.
“Who’s the artist?” Kayla asked. “I notice you have several by the same person.”
“That would be me,” she replied. “I dabble when I have time.” She gave them an expectant look. “Now, I’m not quite sure why you’re here. Connie said you have questions about someone in my past. That sounds rather mysterious.”
“Do you remember a man named Nate Carmello?”
Kayla asked.
A shadow immediately crossed her face. “Nathan Carmello. I haven’t heard that name in a very long time.
Why would you ask me about him now?”
Kayla hesitated, not sure how to explain. She started
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with the easiest answer. “My grandmother is Charlotte Cunningham Hirsch. You might have known her as —”
“Sweet Charlie,” Anne Marie said. “I remember the name. Nate used to talk about her all the time. She was Johnny’s girlfriend.”
Kayla exchanged a quick look with Nick. “Was Nate your boyfriend?”
Anne Marie uttered a self-deprecating laugh. “No. He wanted to be, but my father was very strict, and Nate was kind of a bad boy. He was so handsome, though. I really liked him.” Her voice faded and she appeared lost in thought.
Nick cleared his throat, drawing Anne Marie’s attention back to him. “You said Nate was a bad boy. You are aware that he went to prison for murder.”
“That was because of Frankie. Frankie got nervous.
He didn’t mean to kill anyone.”
That was the same story her grandmother had told her, Kayla thought. At least something matched up.
“Did Nate happen to show you a pocket watch that he carried around?” Nick continued. “It was silver, hung on a chain, had an inscription on it.”
“Yes, I saw it. Why are you asking?”
“Because my grandmother had a watch like that, too,”
Kayla said. “She just recently told me that it had belonged to Johnny. The thing is, someone stole it from me before I knew its history. I think that person is trying to find the other watches.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s possible that those watches in some way lead to the fortune in coins that has been missing from the U.S. Mint since it was robbed by Johnny, Nate, and Frankie back in the fifties.”