She held his eyes for a long moment, but all she said was, “Consider yourself hugged.”
“You’ve got our number,” Cole added.
Conn waved them off.
“Fine, be all macho and solitary,” Harmony said. “But don’t get yourself killed. This is one story, classified or not, that I’m looking forward to hearing.”
RAE STAYED BEHIND THE COUNTER IN CONN’S booth, knowing that was where he wanted her and wondering why. She kept one eye on the never-ending stream of weapons aficionados, mostly teenage boys addicted to Japanese anime. Intense interest in weapons, no money to buy them, which made it easy to keep the rest of her focus on Conn’s interaction with Harmony Swift and Cole Hackett. And the fact that something about it was off.
Sure, there’d been an instant rush of jealousy. Harmony Swift was beautiful, and she obviously loved Conn. But not in the way Rae . . . not in the way she loved him, Rae admitted to herself. She blew out a breath, slumping against the wall behind her as the truth sank in. Not that it was much of a surprise. She’d been lonely, and Conn had been a revelation. Everything that was missing from her life. But Conn wasn’t real. Even he knew that.
So she pushed the emotions away—the love, and the pain. She was going to get hurt. She could sit around waiting for it, or she could stop thinking with her emotions, stop seeing what she wanted to see. And when she took off the heart-shaped glasses and looked back over the last few days, a picture formed, all the little things coming together. Conn’s speech was more clipped, less filled with historical clichés. His manner was more consistently intense as well, not just when they were in danger, but the sex . . . It was different, too, still amazing—no doubt it would be the best of her life—but different from that first time.
And then there was the look in his eyes when he’d seen Harmony Swift. Because he’d recognized her. And then he’d lied about it.
So why didn’t she feel anything? She’d gone completely numb, no tears, no sense of betrayal, no homicidal urges. Good thing, since she was confronting Conn over a long counter filled with really sharp weapons.
“They seemed to be nice people,” Rae said.
Conn shrugged.
“So when did your memory come back?”
“What?” Conn asked as if she’d wanted to know the temperature.
It might have worked if she hadn’t been looking him straight in the eye. And he knew it.
He scrubbed a hand over his face, his eyes lifting to stare off, over her head.
“When?”
His gaze shifted back to hers. “Mackinac Island. Before the plane.”
Okay, now she was feeling something—pissed off. She walked out of the booth, heading for the faire workers’ entrance at the back of the grounds, less than a hundred yards away.
Conn caught her just as she was going through the gate. “I’m telling the truth, Rae.”
“Better late than never? Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“I woke up and it was just there.”
“And so was I.”
Conn had the grace to look sheepish. He did not look apologetic.
“Let go of my arm.”
For a second she thought he’d refuse. Then he let her go. It hurt, desperately. She couldn’t bear to stand there and listen to him justify using sex to keep her in the dark, but she wanted him to fight for the opportunity. And he let her just walk away.
She found herself at her parents’ trailer without knowing how she got there. She didn’t take the time to change, just snagged her purse off the table and turned to go back out. Conn stood in the doorway, filling it completely.
“Get out of my way.”
“No,” he said, calm, implacable, almost back to Conn the Floater.
But she knew the difference now. “I’m leaving.”
He snatched her purse and took out the Jaguar’s keys. “Not without these.”
Her vision went red around the edges, fury being a much safer emotion to deal with than the deep, dark well of pain just beneath.
“I’m on a case.” The appeal for understanding in his voice only infuriated her more.
“And I’m just a tool, I get it.”
“You’re not a tool. I got you into this, and it’s my job to keep you safe.”
“So I’m a responsibility,” she said bitterly. “That makes it so much better.”
“I didn’t mean it that way.”
She shoved him out of the way and left the trailer, but he caught her wrist, his touch like a knife to her heart because, foolishly, she wanted him to take her in his arms and make it all go away. After everything, she still wanted him.
“Don’t you want an explanation?”
More than she wanted her next breath, and to her own shame, she’d probably believe him. She looked at his hand, locked around her wrist, stared at it until he let her go. It was the hardest thing she’d ever done, but she lifted her eyes to his. She’d be damned if she hid.
“I’m sure whatever you’re doing is classified.”
“It is.”
“Then your explanation would only be more lies.” And this time, when she walked away, he let her go.
CONN WAS IN THE FORGE, BANGING ON A PIECE OF steel that had long gone cold. He didn’t care. The perpetual crowd of women were gathered around, oohing and aahing. He
really
didn’t care about them.
When Annie Bliss showed up, he knew he was in for it. He didn’t give a damn about her, either.
“Where’s Rae?” she said.
He ignored her.
She stomped to the front of the enclosure and folded out the wooden shutters with the closed sign on them. Conn picked up the mangled steel with his tongs, ignoring the chorus of angry female voices on the other side.
Annie put herself between him and the fire, jamming her hands on her hips. “Where’s my daughter?”
“I don’t know.”
All the blood drained out of Annie’s face. Conn might have felt bad, if there’d been any room around the anger.
“You promised to keep an eye on her.”
“I got a little sidetracked when you sent Harmony and Cole over here.”
“I thought they would help you with your memory . . . wait,” she clutched at his arm. “It’s back, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” he snapped out, pissed at himself more than her because he hadn’t been able to hide the truth from Rae. It didn’t matter that she’d been able to practically read his mind since day one. It didn’t matter that with his memory gone he hadn’t known the importance of keeping his distance from her, let alone carrying on with his mission. His memory was back, had been back long enough for him to get his footing and make the right choices for everyone involved. Instead, he’d made mistakes, selfish ones, right down the line.
“Does Rae know?” Annie asked him.
“Rae knows.”
“She didn’t take it well.”
“I had to confiscate her car keys.”
Annie sank back against the edge of the firebox. Conn took her by the upper arms and moved her to his workbench. Letting her catch on fire would not make Rae happy. Then again—
“How much does she know?”
It might not be long before Rae wished her parents into the same hell she’d probably doomed him to. “She wasn’t interested in explanations,” Conn said.
Annie pulled her phone out of a hidden pocket in her skirt and called Nelson. At least that’s what Conn assumed, since she sent the party on the other end of the phone to their trailer to see if Rae was there. And after she’d disconnected, Annie got to her feet, and Conn knew he was in for it again.
But he’d be damned if he stood there and took it. “She’ll be safe.”
“It’s a little late for that,” Annie said. “We trusted you—”
“I need to know what’s going on with the counterfeiting operation.”
“I need to talk about Rae. What happened between the two of you?”
“None of your business,” Conn said.
“She’s my daughter.”
“And if you weren’t printing money in the back room, she wouldn’t be in this mess.”
That did it. Annie snapped her mouth shut, looking like she wanted to hurt him. But her eyes teared up.
Conn stepped forward, hesitating when he realized what he was about to do.
Annie took the decision out of his hands by throwing her arms around him.
So much for establishing distance, Conn thought, patting her back awkwardly.
“I’m sorry,” she said, stepping back. “You’re right. We got ourselves into this mess, and dragged you and Rae in with us.”
“I got myself in,” Conn reminded her. “And I’m going to get myself and Rae out.”
Annie sat again. “But not Nelson and me.”
What could he say? Much as he wanted to reassure her, he wouldn’t lie. The Blisses were going to get arrested, maybe do some jail time. The U.S. government had an unforgiving nature when it came to counterfeiters. No matter the circumstances, it was a crime they usually insisted on punishing with something more than probation.
Nelson raced through the open back of the booth, out of breath, clutching at his side. “Sun,” he gasped, “Sunny . . . gone. Took . . .”
Annie flew off the bench and grabbed him by the shirt-front, shaking him. “Someone took Sunny?”
He shook his head. “Airstream . . . she took it.”
“
Christ.
” Conn slammed his fist into the shutters, startling a shriek out of an elderly woman who was walking by.
Nelson cracked the shutter open and said, “Sorry,” then tried to calm his wife, who was having a panic attack.
Conn was busy trying not to lose his head. It took all of his training, and a reminder that if Harry had Rae he wouldn’t harm her. She would be leverage to Harry. Kemp was another story. Kemp would want payback.
“Shut up,” he said to the Blisses, pulling out his cell phone, retrieved from his tent last night. Rae didn’t answer. Not meaningful, considering she wanted him dead.
“Maybe she’ll pick up for you,” he said to Annie. “Call her.”
“That’s not exactly medieval,” a voice said from the other side of the shutters. “Maybe you should try carrier pigeon.”
Conn closed his eyes. He didn’t have to see the face to know who the voice belonged to. “What are you, the cavalry?”
The left shutter popped open, and a man vaulted over the low rail. Tall, dark hair, shit-eating grin. “You’re the one who looks like he belongs on a horse,” he said to Conn, but his eyes were on Nelson and Annie.
“They’re all right,” Conn said.
“Do they have names?”
“Where are my manners?”
“You never had any, but you have a way with sarcasm.” He stepped forward and held his hand out.
Nelson took it, then Annie, both of them looking a little shell-shocked.
“James Aloysius Smith the Third,” he said. “My friends call me Trip.”
“You don’t have any friends,” Conn said.
“Casualty of my lifestyle. Yours, too.” He gave Conn a once-over, taking in the no shirt/leather pants ensemble. “Once upon a time.”
Conn rolled his shoulders. “This is turning into a cluster . . .” He looked at Annie and Nelson, watching them with great interest. He would have pulled Trip aside and finished their conversation in private, but what was the point? “Why did Mike send you?”
“He’s FBI, too,” Annie said, breathing a sigh of relief.
Trip held Conn’s eyes, one eyebrow lifting.
“They’re acting as CIs,” Conn said. “Answer my question.”
Trip bumped up a shoulder. “Mike probably figured it wouldn’t hurt for me to scope out the sitch, as the kids say.”
Conn’s first instinct was to send him packing, but he didn’t have the luxury of pride. “Since you’re here, you can hang out for a while, keep an eye on the
sitch
. Fill him in,” he said to the Blisses.
Nelson caught his arm. “You’re going after her? That’s not a good idea.”
“I’m the only one who can,” Conn said.
“I can’t wait to hear this fairy tale,” he heard Trip say as he walked away.
At least Annie and Nelson didn’t know all the details. It wasn’t much, as silver linings went, but he’d take anything he could get.
chapter
22
IT FELT GOOD TO BE HOME, TO BE DRESSED IN HER
own clothes and sitting at her desk in her home office. It was way after lunchtime. Her stomach was growling but she couldn’t imagine putting anything in it. She was angry and exhausted, but she felt like she was getting her feet under her again. Now if she could only get her mind on work—
Her cell phone chimed. Her mother, she saw on the display. She shut it off. The house phone rang almost immediately.
Rae put her head down on her desk. She really didn’t want to talk to anyone. She didn’t even want to think anymore, let alone feel. And if she didn’t answer the phone she wasn’t going to get any peace because her mother would keep calling.
She picked up the cordless handset and pushed the TALK button. “I’m not coming back.”
“That’s too bad,” Annie said, “because your father and I have nowhere to sleep tonight.”
“Get my keys from Conn and come get the Airstream.”
“Really, Sunny, you took it, you should bring it back.”
“Nope, but thanks for calling.”
“Wait,” her mother said, sounding unusually hesitant. “I hope you know how much we love you.”
That took Rae off guard. Not that her parents loved her. She knew that. So why did her mother feel a need to be so dramatic about it? “Of course I know you love me,” she said. “And I love you guys, too. So why am I going to be mad at you?”
Annie laughed softly, but it was strained and unnatural. “Just don’t forget that we’ve only ever wanted you to be happy.”
Rae didn’t know how to answer that. Her definition of happiness and her mother’s were so far apart. “I know you mean well,” she said at last. Then she looked up and saw Conn standing in the doorway to her home office. “I have to go, Mom.”