A Just Deception (19 page)

“Seth and Kendrick.”

“Yes. She’s been there ever since.”

“What about the baby’s father?”

Wade shrugged. “No idea. I don’t think he’s around though. The point is she’s been living there four months and knew Nicole Pratt. I questioned Courtney myself when Nicole disappeared. They were friends. Maybe you can get something from her.”

That made sense. “I see where you’re going with this. She told me she doesn’t have a car and occasionally needs a ride into town. Seth usually drives her, but she has to wait until it’s convenient for him. I told her I’d cart her around while I’m there. I’ll see if she wants to run to the store with me after dinner tonight. Maybe she’ll open up to me.”

“Don’t push too hard,” Wade said, sounding like Peter.

Yeesh.
They didn’t give up.

Speaking of Peter
…She sipped her tea to hydrate her suddenly parched throat. This should be interesting. “Can you get me land surveys of the property?”

His eyes fused to hers. “Why?”

Play dumb
. She wouldn’t lie to him, but she wouldn’t give him anything extra either. “There’s a lot of property there.”

“And Jessup wants to see it?”

Jig’s up
. No sense in denying it.

“Actually,” Isabelle said, “he’s already seen it.”

One of the men at the counter barked out a laugh and she looked over, relieved for the distraction while she waited for Wade to lecture her. She turned back and found him staring out the filmy window, his lips curled in.

“Knew it,” he said.

The best thing for her to do would be to stay silent. Very silent. Peter and Wade needed to exhaust this quest to pulverize each other. She got that. She just didn’t want to be in the middle of it.

Wade’s gaze met hers and the disappointment on his perfectly angular face could not be ignored. “Mr. Jessup didn’t follow my advice to stay out of my case?”

She grinned. “He can be stubborn. You’ll learn that.”

That got her a stony look. “No. I won’t. I’ll have another talk with him.”

Her cue to leave. She so did not want to be around for that. Isabelle wrapped one hand on the end of the table and boosted herself from the booth. “Well, best of luck to you. I need to get back. The drive is long and dinner is served promptly at five-thirty. I shan’t be late.”

Peter sat at the banged-up imitation wood desk in the motel room doing an internet search for all things related to Kendrick’s foundation when “Born to Run” screamed from his phone. Wrong damn phone. He wanted it to be the prepaid one because Izzy should be calling to let him know her meeting with Sampson had ended. He’d spoken to her on the way to the meeting, and was none too pleased with the sealed windows and locks on the doors development. His rampaging blood pressure had, in fact, nearly driven him to psychosis.

He glanced at the phone sitting on the desk. Blocked number. Usually it was Vic calling from his cone of silence, but sometimes he got a surprise. “Jessup.”

“Wade Sampson.”

“That didn’t take long,” Peter said.

“Huh?”

Sampson was a little slow on the uptake. “For you to call me. I guess you just finished with Izzy.”

Did she mention you should keep your slick fucking hands off her?

“I thought I asked you to stay out of my case,” Sampson said.

“You did.”
Enough said on that subject
. “Can you get me the property surveys for that compound?”

Silence. Peter waited for Sampson to blow his stack. He spun the chair and motioned for Billy to lower the volume on the porn movie he’d rented. Porn, at this point, could create chaos because it meant Billy was bored, and when that happened, he got busy doing all sorts of shit he shouldn’t be doing.

What they
should
have been doing was helping Izzy figure out what happened to the pretty college student, but nothing was popping. Blanks everywhere. Instead he was listening to some woman moan about Carl the lizard man and his amazing tongue.

“You’re kidding, right?” Sampson finally said in his best you-are-nuttier-than-a-fruitcake voice.

“Nope. It’s a lot of property. I’d like a guide.”

Sampson laughed at that. At least he had a sense of humor.

“I’m not getting you those surveys. I can’t chance you screwing up evidence.”

“Oh, man,” Billy howled from behind him and Peter spun around again.

“Shut that thing off. I’m on the phone.”

Billy waved him away. Perfect. Peter shot him the bird and wondered where he put his gun. He might need it in the next thirty seconds.

“Hello?” Sampson said.

“Yeah, I’m here.”
I’m just busy trying to keep my buddy from whacking off in front of me.
“You should get me those surveys. There’s a lot of property.”

“A hundred acres,” Sampson replied.

Hey, at least the guy was talking. Maybe he needed to be convinced by way of a boot in the ass. “Lots of places to bury a body.”

“I know.”

Progress. Not only was Sampson talking, he was listening. “The faster you get probable cause, the faster you get a warrant to search the place. I’ll get you probable cause. You’ll have to turn your back for a while, but how bad do you want it?”

More silence.
Yes, Agent Sampson
.
Keep thinking
.
You’ll get there
.

Peter counted off in his head. Ten seconds tops and this guy would crumble.

“I’ll get you those surveys.”

Haza
! Eight seconds. Not bad. A tough guy.

“I knew we could agree on this,” Peter said.

Sampson released a breath. “I’m on a limb here, Jessup.”

Peter could respect that. A man like Sampson didn’t play outside the rules. Particularly with a case of this magnitude. A congresswoman’s missing daughter could make or break his career, and Peter couldn’t blame him for not wanting to be the agent that screwed the pooch.

“My reasons for being involved are different than yours, Sampson, but we agree on what the results should be.”

“Just don’t fuck me.”

Sampson did a half sigh. Probably because he knew, deep down in that part of him that yearned for the greater good, he needed help. They weren’t so different after all.

“No problem,” Peter said. “You’re not my type anyway.”

Isabelle spotted the Dipsy-Do Ice Cream Shop as she drove along the rural route heading back to the compound. Trees and crops surrounded the road, but the Dipsy-Do, with its bright white paint and neon sign, stood smack in the middle of all that lush farmland.

After dinner, she and Courtney had taken a trip to the five-and-dime so Courtney could stock up on essentials. Seth, surprisingly, didn’t argue. He was probably relieved he didn’t have to take her. The Dipsy-Do would provide another opportunity to endear herself to Courtney.

“This place reminds me of one of those old drive-ins. How about we stop?”

Courtney shrugged. “Fine by me.”

This girl had a steel coat and cracking it could take a while. Maybe more time than Isabelle had.

“I love a good vanilla soft-serve,” she said.

“Whatever.”

All right. Maybe she should make Crabby Courtney pay for her own damned ice cream. Isabelle chuckled to herself. Crabby Courtney meet Creepy Izzy.

Five minutes later, they settled down on one of the wooden picnic tables to enjoy their ice cream cones as Isabelle’s mind went to work.

Having Courtney alone was an opportunity to cull information, but Isabelle would have to use caution. This girl was no fool and would see right through an influx of questions. Isabelle licked a drip off her cone, glanced at the setting sun and wished she were sharing this time with Peter.

Don’t think about him now
.
Concentrate on the task.

“This is a great place,” she said. “I’ll have to take a picture of it.”

Courtney’s gaze stayed focused on Isabelle’s as she licked her chocolate-vanilla twist. She took a second lick, but her measuring stare remained.

A gentle bubbling under Isabelle’s skin indicated a shift of energy between them, and she willed herself to remain still. Being a good lawyer meant understanding the rhythm of a situation, and speaking too soon might cause Courtney to retreat.

“I used to come here with my friend.”

Isabelle took another slow swipe of her cone. “It’s not far from the compound.”

“That’s why we liked it.”

Hmm. A lot of past tense going on here.
“It doesn’t sound like you come here anymore.”

Courtney shook her head. “My friend moved out.”

Ba-da-bum, ba-da-bum, ba-da-bum
. Isabelle’s heart pounded and she steadied herself against the pressure in her chest. Could they be talking about Nicole Pratt?

What would a congresswoman’s daughter be doing living in a glorified homeless shelter?

Deep breath. Confirm the information. Act natural.

Isabelle bit into the cone and focused on the crunch rather than the near heart attack she was having. “That’s too bad. Were you roommates before you moved into the compound?”

Courtney popped the last of her cone into her mouth and wiped each finger with her napkin. “No. We were at Seth’s together. She moved in a few weeks after I did. You’re in her old room.”

Holy, holy cow. Stay calm. Breathe.

“Ow!” Courtney smacked at her arm. “Damn, bugs. They’ll swallow you whole.”

No kidding on that one. Isabelle had already used half a bottle of bug spray. “Do you need spray? I have some in my purse.”

“No. I’m afraid it’s bad for the baby.”

“We can go back if you’d like.”

Courtney shook her head. “I like being away from the house.”

Didn’t take a neurosurgeon to understand that. “Yeah, I needed some air, too.”

“I guess you’ve had it with the Queen Bee wishing you’d melt.”

Isabelle snorted a laugh. “You caught that, huh?”

“I’m knocked up, not blind. Don’t sweat it. She does it to any new woman that comes along.”

“Why?”

Courtney’s eyes shifted.
She knows something
.

Isabelle waited the near one hundred hours until Courtney shrugged. “She’s a nut.”

Not exactly case-breaking information. “Maybe we’ll just stay here until everyone goes to bed.”

Courtney rolled her eyes at the bad joke, but Isabelle wasn’t sure she was kidding. Spending the evening with Seth staring at the wonder boobs was not high on the to-do list.

And yes, she knew it was her own fault for playing up her assets, but if it got her enough information to find Nicole, she’d do it. In intervals.

“It’s nice that you get your own room at least,” she said.

“The timing worked out. I’m hoping to be gone before anyone else comes in.”

“When are you leaving?”

Courtney shrugged. “After the baby comes.”

Now wasn’t that interesting? Where was she going to go with an infant? And no job to support them? “Do you have something lined up? A place to live for you and the baby?”

“I…uh…no.” She stood for a second, stretched her back and sat again.

“I see.” Isabelle tried to keep her voice level, but Courtney caught the surprise and eyed her.

“I’m giving the baby up. It’ll just be me I need to worry about, and I’ve managed so far.”

Oh, hell.
Maybe Isabelle should learn to avoid passing judgment until she knew the whole story.

Courtney rubbed a hand over her belly. “She’ll be better off with someone else. I want her to have a good life.”

“You’re having a girl?”

“Yep. And I think she’ll be a feisty one too. She kicks all the time.”

A rare, wistful smile took over Courtney’s face and the sadness plunged into Isabelle’s heart. Courtney wanted to keep her baby.

“Courtney?”

The girl stared at a young couple passing. “What?”

“This is none of my business, and feel free to tell me to screw off, but are you sure you want to give up your baby?”

She twisted her lips and then said, “Sure, I’d like to keep her, but how can I do that? I don’t have a job, a place to live or health insurance.”

“What about your family?”

“I ran away when I was sixteen. I haven’t been back since. I call my mother once in a while, but I don’t expect them to help me. I won’t go back there anyway.”

“What about the baby’s father?”

“Took off three months ago because he didn’t—” Courtney made air quotes, “—sign on for this.” She laughed her derision. “Maybe he should have thought about that before he stuck his dick into me.” She slapped her hands over her face. “I’m sorry. It’s the hormones.”

Isabelle reached her hand across, but unsure how Courtney would respond to her touch, set it flat on the tabletop. “You don’t have to apologize to me about men. I don’t understand them myself.”

Except Peter. Him I understand. Most of the time.

“Anyway, I’m giving up the baby.” Her gaze shifted to the couple again. “I’m only twenty. I have a lot of time to have more children. I want my children to have a good life, with a mom and dad who love them. The best thing is to give the baby to someone who can give her that.”

A slice tore into Isabelle. Courtney’s plan sounded reasonable, but the look on her face as she rubbed her hand over her belly said something different. Regret. And the baby wasn’t even gone yet. What would this girl be like when her child was being raised by someone else?

Isabelle thought of Peter’s mother and her foundation. Maybe Lorraine could help? Maybe
Isabelle
could help. She could certainly line up a job. And she had contacts at the women’s shelter back home. Maybe they knew of an assistance program.

“Courtney, we don’t know each other well, but maybe I can help you find someplace else to live. I’m not trying to talk you out of giving up the baby, but this is a big decision and you don’t seem convinced.”

The frigid look Courtney leveled on her forced Isabelle to lean back.
Wow. That pissed her off.

“Don’t you think I know it’s a big decision?”

“I didn’t mean to be patronizing.”

Courtney huffed. “It doesn’t matter anyway. The decision is made.”

What did that mean? “You have time yet.”

“No. I don’t.”

“The baby isn’t due for six weeks. You have time to line something up. I’ll help you. I would hate to see you make a decision like this and regret it later.”

The young couple left their table and walked to the parking lot. Courtney watched with a longing that Isabelle recognized. Loneliness.
Don’t go there
.
This is a job. Leave the emotion out of it.

After a long minute, Courtney turned back. “You’re right. You don’t understand. I already regret the decision, but it’s too late.”

The last of Isabelle’s patience dropped away, but she made sure to keep her voice at a reasonable volume. “How can it be too late when the baby isn’t here yet? Even if you’ve talked to an adoption agency you can still change your mind. You’re the birth mother. You have rights.”

A moment, maybe two, passed in silence before a loud engine from a passing car caught Isabelle’s attention. She stayed focused on Courtney and another minute elapsed while Isabelle waited for the girl, so lost over this decision, to talk to her.

Courtney bit her bottom lip and turned to her with drippy eyes. “I can’t talk to you about this. I’m sorry.”

Isabelle exhaled.
So close.
With caution she reached for Courtney’s hand and the girl didn’t pull away. Progress. “I don’t mean to pressure you. This is your decision, but if you want to talk about it, I’m here. There are always choices.”

She fiddled with the crumpled napkins on the table then scooped them up. “We should get back.”

“Sure,” Isabelle said, not sure at all. “I have to talk to Seth when we get back anyway.”

“Lucky you,” Courtney said in that sarcastic way that meant
un
lucky you.

“You don’t like him much do you?” Isabelle asked when they got to the car.

Courtney slid into the passenger seat and buckled up. “He’s a controlling asshole, but that’s just my personal opinion.”

She liked Courtney. “You’re entitled.”

“Kendrick was at least nice to me.”

The sound of Kendrick’s name caught Isabelle off-guard and she stiffened. “Kendrick wasn’t my favorite person.”

“I figured that out. How come?”

A car raced by and honked and Isabelle yelped as she rolled to a stop at the exit. Getting a pregnant woman killed wasn’t on the to-do list for the day either.