C
HAPTER
10
“You need to have a party,” Jane told him one rainy evening when they were staring at the fire in his living room.
“What do you mean? I just had a party a few weeks ago.” Cooper’s annual Fourth of July potluck, usually a gesture of thanks to the town he served, had felt more like a celebration this year with every aspect enhanced by Jane’s touch. Her homemade coleslaw and sugar cookies decorated with red, white, and blue frosting. The small vases of flowers and candles decorating the tables.
Yeah, he was still hearing about how great that July Fourth party had been, and he knew it was because of Jane. Good Lord, the folks around here really did love her.
The way she managed to get people talking to each other, even estranged friends like Rusty and Bubba or Cappy and Clive. By the end of the night, Bubba was no longer sore at Rusty for setting up a sandwich counter at the Quickstop that competed with his barbecue, and Cappy was promising that he’d come see Clive for a haircut after all these years.
“I’m talking about a party for Rusty and Kailani,” Jane said, tucking her feet under her on the couch. “To celebrate their great news about the baby.”
After four years of trying, Rusty and Kailani were expecting a baby, and it was tough deciding which one of them was more excited. Kailani had taken up crocheting to make baby blankets. During a lull at the Quickstop you could find her behind the counter on her stool, working that yarn. Rusty, his good friend and a guy’s guy, had decided to research all the right things to do to prepare for a baby. Cooper had helped Rusty paint the spare bedroom, and the whole time Rusty had talked about the importance of paint with zero VOC—volatile organic compounds. Cooper had never heard of VOC before, but he figured it was all good for the baby. Still, it was a little weird to see all of Rusty’s library books open on the coffee table.
“Are you talking about a baby shower?” Coop asked, thinking how Jane looked so cute curled up in her usual spot on the couch. “Guys don’t do that girly stuff.”
“Not a shower. Just a meeting of friends to celebrate their good news.”
“I am happy for them,” Coop said. “They’ve wanted a kid since they got married.” He was normally not a party guy, but with Jane around, he was beginning to see how a get-together bonded a community. “I guess we could do that. But I’d keep the guest list small. Just friends of Rusty and Kailani.”
“Which is pretty much everyone in Avon,” she said with a glint in her blue eyes.
“True.” And Jane would know. In little more than a month, she had gotten to know this town well. The surprising thing was her attitude—not the snooty city slicker at all. Jane stopped to talk with people, and once she met someone she always remembered his or her name.
When he was on patrol, it wasn’t unusual to see Jane walking through town, taking photos of the ice cream stand at the Quickstop or the display in front of Sara’s flower shop. He’d taken shots of her in a goofy pose in front of a movie poster at the Cineplex. And she’d thought TJ would love the photo of her shaking hands with Bubba.
You’d think the girl was running for mayor. And if she was, he’d be the first in line to vote for her.
She looked like she belonged on that couch. Sitting across from her, half listening as she debated the merits of a crab feast versus burgers and dogs, he thought about the dysfunctional aspect of their relationship. The sad lack of sex.
That had been his call, and he was paying for it, big-time. At the time, he thought that laying it out that way might make her see that she could trust him with her secret.
But no, the plan had backfired in his face.
Five weeks later, she had become an integral part of his life, like morning coffee or the setting sun.
The answer to the question was Jane. Jane in his heart; Jane in his soul.
But no Jane in his bed.
He was falling for her ... he
had
fallen for her, hard. And still, they were ending their nights with kissy-face sessions on the sofa that left him aroused and wondering about his sanity to make such a stupid ultimatum.
Still ... he knew she was holding back. She was hiding something, and damn, didn’t she realize at this point that she could trust him with her darkest secret?
Lately he’d come that close to taking it all back, retracting everything he’d said so that he could make long, lingering love to Jane.
He was the one who had pulled away, laid out the requirements for a relationship. He had set the rules.
But man, he was sorely tempted to break his own rules.
Jane was looking at the calendar on her cell phone, trying to pick a date for the baby party, when her cell rang.
“TJ,” she said, staring at the caller ID. She hopped up from the couch and strode toward the sliding glass door. “I’ll be right back.”
She always did that; Coop had noticed how she moved out of earshot whenever she needed to talk to TJ. Apparently, the brother was in on the secret.
He rolled to his feet and grabbed their empty soda cans. On his way to the kitchen, he saw Jane pace toward him, her face stricken and frantic.
He shoved the cans on the counter and opened the slider. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“TJ—they’ve got him. Oh, God!” She pressed a shaky fist to her mouth.
“Jane, what’s going on?”
“I think they kidnapped him! What if they—”
“Who? Who kidnapped TJ?”
Her eyes flared a moment, then she took a quick breath and answered: “The people who are trying to kill me.”
C
HAPTER
11
Using the approach that got him through police work, Cooper placed his hands on Jane’s shoulders to calm her. “You need to tell me what just happened.”
She gulped in a breath, showing him her cell phone. “The call ... it was TJ’s number that came up. The call came from his phone, but he wasn’t there.”
“Maybe it was a mistake. A pocket dial.”
“But there was someone on the line. He ... I could hear him breathing.”
Coop studied her frazzled expression. “And you’re thinking this is no ordinary cell phone thief. You think someone stole TJ’s phone to call you. These people who are trying to kill you?”
She nodded. “I know it’s Canby’s men.” She clenched her fists, her face strained. “They’ve got my brother now, and there’s no telling what they’ll do to him.”
“Hold on a second. Even if these criminals have his cell phone, TJ might still be okay. Think of how we can reach him—who he might be with. A girlfriend or a friend. Do you have contact information for any of his friends?”
“I have a number for his girlfriend, Laura.”
“That’ll work. Dial her up.”
As he waited for the phone to connect, he wondered about their next plan of action if they couldn’t reach TJ. They would have to call the Florida police. The FBI, too.
“Laura, hi, it’s Jane Doyle. Is TJ with you?” The hope on Jane’s face faded as she looked up at him. “No? I’m trying to reach him. It’s an emergency.” After a pause, she told Coop, “He’s at a Marlins game.”
“Ask her if he went with a friend,” he told her. “Get a number.”
Jane quickly determined that TJ was with his friend Max, and yes, Laura had Max’s cell phone number. She jotted it down quickly and called as soon as she got off with Laura.
“Please, please, pick up,” Jane said. He was thinking the same thing. Lots of guys turned their cell phones off at baseball games. They didn’t want to be bothered.
“Hello? Oh, Max, is TJ with you? This is his sister, Jane.” Her face lit with relief and she paced nervously. “Oh, thank God.”
Cooper smiled, echoing her relief as she told him her brother was there. A second later, she was talking to TJ, explaining about a strange call that had come from his cell phone.
From listening to Jane’s side of the conversation, Cooper deciphered that TJ had left his cell phone at home. Didn’t have a pocket in his shorts.
“Then this is a heads-up,” Jane said. “I think your cell’s been stolen and they may have gone through your apartment, too.”
Jane made him promise that he would take caution when he returned to his apartment. “If there’s any sign of a break-in, call the police,” she warned him as Cooper nodded in the background.
She ended the call, pressed her phone to her heart, and closed her eyes. “Thank you. Thank you, God.”
“I’m glad he’s okay,” Cooper said.
“He’s fine, and he’s going to be careful.” Her eyes flashed open and suddenly she was blinking back tears. “I can’t believe they’re going after him.”
“These guys on your case sound like some pretty bad dudes.”
She snorted. “They’re bad dudes, all right. Cold-blooded killers.”
He nodded. “Are you ready to tell me about them? Fill me in here, Jane, because I don’t much care for swinging in the dark.”
Her eyes met his and she nodded. “I’ll tell you, Coop. I didn’t want to burden you with it—that didn’t seem fair—but now that I’ve pulled you in with me, you need to be armed with the truth.”
“Yeah, I’d like that ammunition. But just for the record, you didn’t pull me in. I’ve been in with you from the start, Jane. Just for the record.”
She paced to the couch and sank down. “It started in the spring. April second. I used to think that was the last day of my life in New York.”
Coop stood behind his chair, watching the shadows on her face cast by the firelight.
“I was out with another realtor, my friend Tia, and we were showing a property to a wealthy Manhattan importer, Arthur Canby. Tia and I were excited because we had just shown Mr. Canby a five-million-dollar property and he seemed very interested.”
Coop tried to imagine the scene: a spring day in Manhattan, Jane and her friend both dressed to the nines, coming out of a fancy apartment building in Manhattan.
“We were just walking Mr. Canby to his limo outside the building when a car with dark-tinted windows pulled up. It all happened so fast, but I replay the scene in my mind every day. Suddenly a man jumped out of the car. He called to our client and Mr. Canby paused. ‘Say your prayers, Arturo,’ the man said. He reached into his belt and suddenly he had a gun pointed at our client, Mr. Canby.
“It seemed fake to me, like a joke or a prank. Maybe because Mr. Canby didn’t seem scared. He told the man it wasn’t going to work because there were witnesses. That sort of threw the man off, but he said it wasn’t a problem.
“Then he turned his gun on Tia and me.” The air felt heavy around them as she paused.
Suddenly the fire was too hot, but Coop had to hear her out. How long had he waited for the truth? He would commit her story to memory, etch every detail in his mind until he could figure a way out of her predicament.
“Tia and I knew the man was going to fire on us, but suddenly there was a loud scatter of noise and the man was knocked back. He fell to the ground, covered in blood, shot by Canby.”
Coop let out the breath he’d been holding. “What a night-mare.”
“At first, Tia and I thought we were safe. But then Canby turned his gun on us.” She pressed her hands to her temples. “Tia was hit first. I lunged behind the car and crawled under a big truck that was parked behind it. I saw Canby’s footsteps as he came back looking for me. His shoes, they were buffed to a perfect shine. Weird, the things you remember. His driver was calling him, saying they had to get out of there, and I could hear the wail of sirens. Canby’s shoes moved out of my sight, and a minute later, the limo squealed out of there.” She raked back her hair, taking a deep breath. “When I crawled out from under the truck and saw Tia and all that blood ... that man was dead. And Tia ...” She shook her head, her eyes welling up with tears.
Cooper couldn’t remain separate and objective anymore. He sat beside her on the couch and put his arms around her. She felt so fragile in his arms, such a small, quivering bundle. Delicate and precious.
“I thank God that you got away,” he said, rocking her gently. She heaved a sob, but then relaxed against him.
“Sometimes I still think it was a miracle that Tia and I are still alive.”
“How’s she doing now?”
“She’s recovering, going through physical therapy. I hear that it’s painful work, but the doctors think she’ll eventually be able to walk again.”
“Have you two ever talked about what happened that day?”
“No. She doesn’t remember leaving the building. It’s frustrating for her, but really, her blank memory is a blessing.” She sniffed and leaned back to swipe the back of her hand over her face. “She doesn’t have to testify.”
The final puzzle piece fell into place as he held her close.
The trial.
“You’re the only one who can testify against Canby,” he said. “The only people who saw the killing are you and Canby’s driver.”
“That’s right. The DA tried to plea bargain with the driver, who was charged with homicide, too, but so far he’s backing up Canby’s ridiculous alibi.”
“So, who is this guy? What’s his real story?”
“It turned out that our wealthy importer, Arthur Canby, was involved in a ring that ‘imported’ drugs into this country. It took the police less than twenty-four hours to track Canby down. When they searched his warehouses, they found a large shipment of heroin in one of them.”
“And I suspect the man he shot is from a rival cartel?”
“Something like that. His name was Joe Muldanado, and he worked for a rival drug runner. The Manhattan DA has a solid case against Canby for the drug charges, but they need me to identify him as the killer in court to make a case for homicide.”
“And Canby doesn’t want to spend so much time in the big house,” he said.
Jane nodded. “He wants the murder charges to go away and he’s working from inside jail to let me know that. As soon as Canby was arraigned, I began receiving threats. Anonymous notes in the mail. Text messages and voice mails. They were scripted in different ways, but they all warned me to back down. Eat my words. One note said I should develop amnesia, just like Tia.”
“Like I said, bad dudes.”
“That’s the tip of the iceberg. I started getting a creepy feeling, like I was being watched, but I figured it was paranoia. You know, trauma from the shooting. Then one night, it was after midnight, I was waiting for a train down in the subway. The station was quiet, nearly empty, and suddenly I saw this man coming toward me. I think ... I think he was planning to push me on the tracks. I ran up the stairs and lunged for the exit, but he followed me all the way. He even chased me on the street until I ducked into a twenty-four-hour convenience store. I made the manager call nine-one-one and the cops came, but they never found him.”
“So, Canby has hired a hit man to silence your testimony?”
“I know he did, but again, it’s hard to prove he’s the one behind it all. I don’t think the police took it too seriously until someone took a shot at me. One day early in the summer, I was eating breakfast on the balcony of my apartment—I used to love eating out there—and suddenly the glass door behind me exploded. I didn’t know what had happened, but the police found a bullet embedded in the kitchen floor.”
“A sniper shot?” He shook his head; someone wanted her dead. They wanted it real bad.
“So now the police are on board?” he asked.
She nodded. “They think a hit man has been hired by Canby’s people—his gang or his family. The DA’s office tried to get me some protection, but the cops don’t have the resources to provide twenty-four/seven protection until the trial in September. So ... I was starting to feel like a big bull’s-eye in New York. I had to get away. I rented a car and headed down to see my brother, and then the accident. When I was about to leave the next day, TJ called to tell me someone had called him, asking about me. We decided it was too dangerous for me to stay with him. You know the rest.”
“I do. And I’m sorry I didn’t know the first part a long time ago. I would have helped you, you know. We could have gotten you a job at the realty office instead of cleaning houses. You could have used an alias here, just to make it harder if anyone did come snooping around.”
“Coop, I appreciate your help, but you didn’t know me when I first arrived here. It would have been a hell of a story to lay on you, and I’m not even sure you would have believed it back then.”
“You underestimate your powers of persuasion.” He pushed back a strand of her silken hair so that he could see her face, track her emotions. “But my hat is off to you, Miss Jane. I’m proud of you. It’s a courageous thing you’re doing, testifying and tangling with the likes of a man like that Canby.”
“Well ... thanks, but it’s not like I had a lot of choices. I have to testify, for my own sanity and for Tia, and I’m committed to getting Canby off the streets for good.”
“And it’s your good fortune that you landed here,” he said. “If you hadn’t had that accident, you would have driven down to Florida, right where this hit man is looking for you.”
She shivered, and he cradled her in his arms, placing a kiss on her forehead. “Don’t worry, Miss Jane. I’ll take care of you. Now that I know, I promise, I’ll protect you.”
“I believe you,” she said, her gaze locking on his. “I’m sorry to heap this on your shoulders, but there’s no one else in the world I would trust telling right now.”
He touched her chin, letting his fingers trail along her jawline to her right ear. “Bring it on, sugar. I got wide shoulders.”
“Wide enough for the skeleton in my closet?” She reached over to him, cupped his shoulders, and gave a squeeze. “Yeah, I think you do. So ... that’s the worst of it. You know everything now. That’s me, heart and soul.”
“Mm-hmm.” He was focused on her ear, the little channels and ridges, as perfect as a seashell. As perfect as the rest of her.
“Coop?” In a sudden move, she got up on her knees, then rose to straddle him on the couch. “Doesn’t this mean we can make love now?”
He smiled, his body already responding to her weight on him.
“I believe it does,” he said. “I believe—” The rest was cut off by her lips descending on his, soft, luscious, and thick with hunger.
Such a perfect match, as he’d been hungry, too. Starving. And oh, man, Jane tasted so good.