Assumed Identity (10 page)

“Jake, she’s okay.” Robin’s smile probably meant his inexperience handling a baby amused her. But her hand on his arm softened the sting of overreacting and feeling out of his element. She guided his hand to the baby’s back and pulled the clinging fingers from his mouth. “Babies like to feel different textures. Touch is a big part of how they learn.”

They also didn’t seem to care a whit for how big and ugly the man was behind those textures. Emma flashed him those sweet blue eyes and squealed with delight as she rubbed both tiny palms along his scarred jaw. Oh, man. He was screwed.

He wasn’t the only one in the bar to notice that, either.

Robbie’s gut shook as he laughed and winked at Jake. “I see how it is. The heart of the beast has been smitten by the wee beauty.” He reached over to tickle the back of Emma’s neck and then pat Jake on the arm. “I’ll take the trash out for you and leave you be with your friends. You’ve got about twenty minutes before the first round of customers stops by after work.” He had a wink for Robin, too. “Nice to meet you both. Now that I know we’re practically neighbors, you come visit again, anytime.”

“Nice to meet you.” After Robbie had picked up the boxes and exited into the back hallway, Robin peeked around Jake’s shoulder and confirmed that the detective was on the phone to someone at precinct headquarters. She had that determined tilt to her chin again when she looked at Jake. “Are you done talking with Detective Montgomery?”

The woman just wouldn’t leave him alone and give him the chance to get her out of his head, would she.

“Didn’t have much to say. Here.” He leaned in and carefully handed Emma over, pulling away just as quickly as it took for him to know Robin had a good grip on her daughter. “You get her out of here. A bar is no place for a baby.”

“I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want. But I need to talk to you first. Will you listen?”

He wasn’t getting rid of the Carter girls until he did, Jake suspected, so he reluctantly pointed to a booth away from the main bar. “I’ll give you ten minutes.”

“Robbie said we had twenty.”

“I’ll give you ten.” Especially since his shirt now smelled faintly of baby, and he wanted to swap it out for a clean shirt he kept in his locker in the back room before he had to spend the entire night getting whiffs of the “wee beauty” who had somehow gotten under his skin.

At Robin’s request, he retrieved the stroller and followed them over to the booth. With Emma propped up on her mother’s shoulder, smiling at him the entire way, Jake had to wonder if the little minx knew she was casting a spell over him.

He’d let Robin have her say. But then he’d make it clear that helping her the night before had been a one-time thing. As far as he was concerned, their paths need never cross again.

Jake waited for Robin to strap Emma into the stroller at the end of the table, and pull out a set of colorful plastic keys for her to play with before they slipped into opposite sides of the booth. He leaned back, folded his arms over his chest and waited for Robin to start the conversation.

He had to give the woman credit for getting straight to the point. “I’d like to take you to dinner to thank you for what you did for us. Better yet, I’d like to fix you a meal. I’m guessing you’re not a man who gets much home cooking.”

Jake patted his stomach. “You don’t think I eat?” So what if most of his meals came from a microwave or were takeout? It didn’t mean he was starving. Or that he wanted to become a charity project for her. “You already said thank you. More than once.”

She tucked one of those chin-length strands of hair behind her ear and breathed deeply, gearing up to try a different approach. “It doesn’t seem like enough. You didn’t just water my plants while I was on vacation—you saved our lives. I’d like to do something a little more tangible to express our gratitude. I think you’d be insulted if I offered you money—”

“I would.”

“—and you don’t strike me as a man who’d appreciate a big bouquet of flowers. Besides, up until thirty minutes ago, I had no idea where I’d have my man deliver it. I thought you’d appreciate something practical. You have to eat. I cook. Pretty well, I think. And I almost always fix more than...”

Robin stopped mid-sentence with a soft gasp and looked down. She pulled out her cell phone and Jake heard another, almost inaudible, gasp. She was doing it again—that little shake of the head, as though she was dismissing something unpleasant. She closed the phone in her fist and set it down in her lap, out of sight beneath the table.

“You need to answer that?” Jake asked, before she could resume the argument.

“I have it on vibrate. It startled me, that’s all.” The pink scrape mark on her jaw stood out as the rest of her skin paled. She picked up Emma’s toy keys and gently cupped the baby’s face.

“What’s wrong?”

Jake didn’t buy the smile she gave him when she looked up to meet his assessing gaze. “I was assaulted last night. What do you expect? Of course I’m jumpy.”

“Don’t give me that. You found out my name, tracked me down, dolled the kid up—all so you could feed me dinner? I’m not buying it.” He reached across the table take hold of the hand she rested there. Jake damned himself for doing it. He damned her for shifting her grip to hold on. “Something’s got you spooked. And whatever you just saw on your phone is part of it.”

Setting her phone on top of the table, she showed him the message written there. “My assistant, Mark, keeps texting to tell me this woman I talked to before I left the shop has called three more times asking for me.”

“What woman?”

“I answered the first time because I thought she was a reporter.”

“What woman, Robin? What did she say?”

“It was a prank call. She sounded drunk. I’m assuming she read about me in the paper.”

“And?” Her long, artistic fingers were like ice to the touch. And Jake couldn’t seem to stop from stroking his thumb against the pulse in her wrist, trying to instill some warmth into her.

“She said I didn’t deserve her.” She was holding on with both hands now. “She said I should have died last night.”

Jake concentrated every nerve on his grip to keep the surge of anger from fisting his hand too tightly around hers. “Lousy coward. You don’t believe that, do you?”

“I don’t care what anyone says about me. But she was so adamant about how terrible a mother I am. I know I’m a single mom, but I do my best. I get tired sometimes, but I can support Emma on my own. She has a good doctor, a safe home...” A deep breath shuddered through her. “I read every book, I took classes—so I’d be ready when my chance to have a child came. I fought so hard to have a baby on my own. I don’t have that many years left when I can have a healthy pregnancy. But none of the relationships I’d been in were right for starting a family. And none of the science I tried took.” She pulled one hand from his and reached over to touch Emma’s cheek. “And then this little miracle fell into my lap. I wanted to adopt her as soon as I met her. It was love at first sight.”

Even a blind man could see how much Robin adored her daughter and what a fiercely protective mother she was. “This crackpot said you didn’t deserve her? I’m assuming she didn’t give her name?”

She shook her head. Her gray-blue eyes darkened like a starless night. Her fingers convulsed around his and Jake tightened his grip. “She said I put Emma in harm’s way last night.”

The bastard who’d attacked Robin had put the baby in harm’s way. Did the sliced seat belt and tipped car seat mean that lowlife had been after Emma? Was the attack on Robin collateral damage to the unthinkable crime of kidnapping or hurting her infant daughter? Without thinking, Jake stretched his arm out to touch Emma. But at the last moment, he wised up and settled for returning the slobbery plastic keys to her surprisingly strong grasp. No sense completing a circle that had nothing to do with him—that shouldn’t be his concern.

He let go of Robin, too. These weren’t his women to protect. He couldn’t be swayed by searching eyes and needy grasps. Curling both hands into fists, Jake tried to think like the tough guys on the IDs in his apartment. He had to think like that ruthless survivalist from his nightmares. “You didn’t recognize the phone number?”

Robin rubbed her hands together on top of the table, perhaps missing his touch, more likely just feeling chilled again. “She’s only called the shop. I don’t have caller ID there. She didn’t tell me who she was, of course.”

“How specific was the threat? Did she mention Emma’s name?” So his tone was a little sharper than he intended. That was the whole idea of being a tough guy, right?

“No. But how does she know I’m not her real mother? Adoptions aren’t public record, and only my attorney and friends know I didn’t give birth to her. She talked to me like I’d done something wrong, like...like I’m the one who put Emma in danger. She sounded like she wanted to take Emma away from me.” He realized that Robin’s suspicions were following his own. “KCPD is focusing on the Rose Red Rapist. I’m trying to figure out who’s doctoring the books at my shop and stealing from me. Maybe there’s someone else out there none of us have thought of whom I need to be worried about.”

“Why are you telling me?” Ah, hell. There it was—the trust in those pretty eyes. She was looking at him as though he was the go-to man who could save the day for her. He’d lost enough sleep already fighting that whole damsel in distress complex that could do nothing but get him into trouble. “I don’t do relationships, Robin. Of any kind. Don’t bring your troubles to me.”

“
You’re
the one who asked. All I did was offer you dinner.” At last, a hint of color dotted her cheeks. Temper. Good. He could deal with anger a lot easier than he could deal with need and trust and trying to be this woman’s hero.

“My mistake.” Jake slid out of the booth and stood up. “Montgomery!” he shouted at the detective, startling Emma. The little girl dropped her keys and burst into tears. Robin quickly unhooked the baby and lifted her into her arms, cooing comforting words and staring daggers at Jake as the detective looked up from his phone.

“Making friends, Lonergan?” the detective asked.

Wiseass. Jake ignored the knot of guilt that twisted in his stomach at making Emma cry. “Did you find out who owned the car I saw last night?”

“Rental company. It’ll require a little more digging to get the driver’s name.”

Good. KCPD needed to be working this case. Not him.

“Ms. Carter has been getting harassing calls she needs to report.” Jake looked back at Robin, absorbing the disappointment that darkened her gaze. “You stay out of my life, lady. Don’t come to me again.”

* * *

“C
OME
ON
,
SWEETIE
.” R
OBIN
DIDN
’
T
know whether to feel anger or humiliation. Something was pulsing through every muscle as she pushed the stroller out the Shamrock Bar’s front door. “Did that big, scary man make you cry?”

Robin adjusted the top of the stroller to shade Emma from the late-afternoon sun, and set off at a brisk walk. It had taken a good ten minutes to get Emma calmed down. Singing a soft lullaby, Robin had carried her back and forth through the tables at the Shamrock, while Jake disappeared into the back rooms. She’d reported the disturbing phone call to Detective Montgomery, then gathered her things and strapped Emma into her stroller as the first of the bar’s early customers wandered in.

Had she really asked so much of Jake Lonergan? Was it beyond him to give a rat’s ass about anyone besides himself?

One minute, he’d been transformed by Emma’s curious touches and squeals of delight. The next, he’d been loud and crude and pushing them away as fast as he could. His words said he wanted nothing to do with Robin, yet his touch—rough like a cat’s tongue and just as gentle—against her hands and wrist had told a different story. He’d offered comfort and strength, and had hinted at the inexplicable attraction smoldering between them. But he didn’t want dinner. He didn’t want a thank-you. He didn’t want to help and he didn’t want her. The man was completely infuriating and Robin had been a first-class fool to think he wanted to get any further involved with her problems.

A car slowed down on the street and drifted toward the curb. Instinctively, Robin steered Emma closer to the brick and concrete block buildings and kept walking.

“You can’t have it both ways, Lonergan,” she muttered. “Either you’re our friend or you’re—”

The car’s passenger-side window went down, and she realized the car had been keeping pace with her. “Ms. Carter?”

Huh? She jerked to a halt and glanced over at the driver—a man in his mid to late thirties. No one she knew. She took note that the car was black, not green, before shaking off the discomfiture of a stranger calling her by name and starting on her way again.

But her reaction had been confirmation enough for the man to park his car and call out to her again. “It
is
you.”

For a brief second, she imagined a black stocking mask, a leering glare and a baseball bat. But the driver wore a suit and tie. The skies were sunny and clear, her vision was good and her imagination was simply working overtime. She couldn’t afford to be spooked every time a man spoke to her. She shook her head and urged the stroller forward again. “I don’t know you.”

He ignored the dismissal and got out of the car. “We’re practically family.”

Other than a slight stutter in her step, Robin kept walking. Her parents had retired to Arizona and she was an only child. The only family she had in Kansas City was right here in this stroller.

The man buttoned his suit jacket and followed her onto the sidewalk, falling into step a few paces behind her. “Ms. Carter, you’re going to have to talk to me. Either here or in a courtroom.”

That stopped her. “A courtroom?” Keeping Emma and the stroller behind her, she turned to face him. Maybe six feet tall. Brown hair, green eyes, clean-shaven. Black suit and white shirt like an executive or an attorney would wear. She knew the type. But she didn’t know him. “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage, Mr....?”