The Second Man (10 page)

Max draped his arm protectively over her and watched as she chattered about the young faces on the pages of the yearbook.

“Who is that?” He squinted in concentration at one student’s photograph.

Of all people
, she thought. “It’s Marissa Pierce. From the reunion committee.”

“This is Marissa?” Max frowned. “She looks like someone I know, from when I was growing up.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Ingrid. Ingrid Keppleman. Her grandparents lived next to my parents.” He squinted at Jill. “I never said anything like that fifteen years ago, I take it. That this woman resembled Ingrid?”

“No. But then, I didn’t hang out with Marissa myself when we were in college, so I doubt we three were ever together.”

“Oh.” He touched the page. “She’s so familiar. But that’s not strange is it? Don’t some people say everyone in the world has a double somewhere?”

“I’ve heard that but I never believed it.” Jill wrinkled her nose. “We’re all different in some tiny way at least.”

“Even twins?”

“Yes, I think so. I’ve known two identical sets, and there were big differences, in personality, but also in looks.” She stared at the yearbook photo. “Are you sure you don’t remember her?” Jill swallowed, thinking maybe this was a breakthrough of some kind. “Take your time and think about it.”

He stared at the black and white head shot and finally shook his head. “No, she looks familiar because of Ingrid. I don’t know her.” He closed the book and put his hand behind Jill’s head. “I told you, it’s probably time to accept that the past is gone.”

“Only a couple of years of it, here and there, right?”

He nodded and pulled her tight against his nearly naked body. “Ja, but still. I hate to lose the one we spent together.”

“It might still come back.” Jill lay on her side, face-to-face with Max. She felt his body harden into full arousal against hers. “We’ll have to keep working on recreating the good parts.”

“Ja.” That look of hunger was back in his eyes. “I want you.”

“Again?” She slid the palm of her hand down his chest and abdomen, and inside his briefs. “But it’s so late. Maybe we should just get some sleep.” She rubbed her fingers against his skin.

Max groaned and sat up. He kicked off his underwear and then crawled across the bed and turned her on her stomach. He straddled her and pulled the shirt off over her head.

“You have a beautiful ass.” He rubbed her buttocks, squeezing the soft flesh, and then leaned forward and licked the middle of her back, slowly moving his mouth lower down her spine. “I’ll let you sleep in a while,” he murmured.

Max pulled her slowly closer, the sheet rubbing against her hard nipples, enflaming her body even more. “Is our lovemaking the same, Jill?” he asked. “The same as it was when we were first lovers?”

Her mind swam back through the years to their younger selves, two eager lovers, all arms and legs and intense coupling, bodies covered in sweet sweat. They had been eager to try out anything they could think of with one another during those hot summer nights. “No. We’re not the same, so of course it is different now.”

He was still. “What do you mean?”

She arched her back and turned to look at him. “It feels like more,” she said.

“More?”

“More expert. More knowing. More delicious.”

Max smiled wickedly and pulled her body hard against his. “I want you to forget the past. It won’t hold a candle to the now.”

Chapter 10

Jill struggled to read the clock beside her bed. Eight twenty-two. Max had his right arm and leg wrapped around her, his breathing even in the quiet morning air. She closed her eyes for what felt like three minutes, and then opened them wide.

The clock then read nine fifty-three.

Max was no longer beside her, but she heard the shower running. Jill rolled on her back and stretched, contented as a cat who had spent the night with a vat of cream. Soft light filtered through the shutters, and outside she heard a lawnmower.

What a perfect Tuesday morning
, she thought.
I’ll make pancakes. I have blueberries. And then we can take a ride to the beach. The Pacific is too cold for a swim, but we can sit and watch the surfers in their wetsuits.

Magically, it seemed that while she had slept, time had gone out with the tide, and she once again was a twenty-one-year-old college girl mapping out a lazy, perfect day with her boyfriend.

She pulled Max’s shirt over her head, reveling in the way her body felt after being so thoroughly made love to. She went to the powder room and spent a minute, amazed that, to her eyes, her face was that of her college self. Happy. Youthful. Full of hope.

In the kitchen, she started a pot of coffee, pulled out the fruit and milk and eggs for pancakes. The clock on the stove read two minutes after ten.

“Shit!” Jill said, whacking her forehead.
Mother! Her appointment with the doctor is at ten-thirty.

She turned on her heel and ran to her bedroom, nearly knocking Max over in the doorway.

“Whoa! What’s wrong? The kitchen on fire?”

“No, damn it. I totally forgot mother has an appointment with the doctor this morning.” She grabbed underwear and a clean blouse and then stripped and began to dress.

“Can I help?” Max leaned against the doorframe, wearing only his jeans and a look of appreciation.

“If you could pour me some coffee, I’ll owe you.” She grinned. “There’s a travel mug on the counter. I need to get on the road five minutes ago.”

“Why don’t I drive? I want to meet Dorothy, again, if you think it wouldn’t be too upsetting for her. I’ll come along to help.”

Jill pulled her jeans up. “It would be great for you to come spend some time with her, but probably not today. I’m going to have to rush her out of there, and she’s got two medical appointments and one for an eye exam.” She stopped and put her arms around him. His hair was still wet, and his skin was firm and cool.

Max kissed her gently. Then not so gently. Desire coiled in her lower belly and she pushed against him. “Stop that or I’ll never get out of here. Coffee, please. I’m going to comb my hair and then I have to run. There’s stuff to put breakfast together, if you’re hungry.”

“Oh, I’m hungry all right.” He nestled his face into her neck and gave her a tiny bite. “I’ll make the bed and lock up. You go get yourself together, and I’ll get you some coffee.”

Jill smiled as Max hurried one way down the hallway, and she the other.
I could get used to having him around.
For a moment, she let her mind wander into the future. When he went back to France.

What will I do then? How is this, whatever it is, going to work?

No answers came to her, but the peace she had felt a few minutes ago had fled.

It was about the worst four hours she ever spent with her mother, Jill thought, vowing never again to schedule more than one appointment a day. It was stressful for Dorothy to get in and out of the car, and even worse to try and explain to her mother why they were in the doctor’s offices.

Jill pulled her car into the parking lot and sighed. Her mother dozed in the seat next to her, her face drawn, a half-inch of grey bordering the auburn hair Dorothy had colored Jill’s entire life. She was going to have to re-think taking her mother to the salon next week as she had planned.

Friend’s House has a small on-site facility.
That might be easier, and less upsetting. For both of us
.

She walked around the car and opened the door. Dorothy woke with a start but allowed herself to be helped out of the seat belt. They walked back to her room slowly. She did not look at Jill but walked quicker than usual, as anxious as I am, Jill thought, to get back to her room.

Inside, Jill sat her Mother down at the café table by the window and gave her the sandwich she had bought at the drive through. Dorothy had missed lunch because of her appointments. Her mother eyed it, but made no move to pick it up.

“Not hungry?” Jill handed her an apple slice. “How about this?”

Dorothy took it and nodded, biting into it hungrily.

Jill took the turkey sandwich apart and handed her mother pieces of the meat and cheese and bread separately, which Dorothy seemed more comfortable with.

A few minutes later Jill helped her Mom to her bed for a nap. Dorothy fell asleep instantly. Quietly, Jill covered her with the blue and red afghan Dorothy had knit for her father twenty years ago, and headed out. She checked her phone, which she realized she had not taken off silent for the last three days.

Max had called twice and Carly once. There were also two calls from a caller marked Private.

“Miss Farrell,” a woman said as Jill leaned down to sign-out on the visitor’s log.

She turned to find Karen Rose, the director of Friend’s House, standing behind her.

“Hi, Karen.” Jill slipped the cell into her purse. “I checked my mother back in. It was a long day for her. She’ll probably sleep until supper.”

“Good. She’s been unsettled at night, so I’m sure she needs the rest.” The red-haired woman handed her an envelope. “I thought I’d give you this instead of mailing it.”

“Thanks. What is it?”

“The receipt for the check for the next two months of your mother’s stay.”

“You mean the first two months. The check I dropped by on Friday?” Jill frowned.

“No, I put that in the mail to you as soon as I got it. This is for June and July, and the balance to August.” Karen raised her eyebrows. “From the funds your husband dropped by yesterday. What a good-looking man he is.”

Shock like a blow to her forehead stopped Jill dead. She held up her right hand. “Wait a minute. Who and what are you talking about?”

“Your husband. He was lovely to the staff when he came to visit with your mother yesterday evening. Had a huge box of candy with him, which he left in the dining room when he took Dorothy back to her room.”

Confusion, panic, and anger exploded simultaneously. “Karen, I’m not married. And no one paid anything on my mother’s account but me.”
Have I left my mother in the care of idiots?
Briskly she handed the envelope back.

“What? Andrew Denton isn’t your husband?” The director’s hand jerked toward her face in alarm.

“Andrew Denton? He came here? You let him in to visit my mother?”

Karen took a step backward. “Well, yes. I mean, I wasn’t aware of the fact you were married, but he explained when he introduced himself to all of us how you kept your own name for professional reasons.”

“Shit, Karen. I was married to Andrew Denton, but we’ve been divorced for a decade. You tell your staff he is never, ever to be allowed to visit my mother again.”

“I certainly will. But Miss Farrell, you should understand Friends House personnel aren’t a police force. We’re an assisted living facility, and anyone can drop in on the residents. We go out of our way to make guests from the community welcome.”

“You’re not following me here,” Jill interrupted. “Andrew Denton is not a guy you want to welcome and let mingle with the residents.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s nuts. Dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” she replied. “What, you mean like a criminal or something?”

Jill had said more than she should have, but she was furious. “No, he’s not a criminal that I know of, but he’s very troubled and has shown up out of the blue wanting to get back into my life. Which he is not going to do. So I don’t want him coming around here. My mom is confused enough. Seeing him, and trying to remember if she knows him, can’t help her.”

“Do you have a restraining order?” Karen asked as if she hoped Jill did.

“No. But I’ll get one if that’s what it takes to keep Andrew from visiting again. If he shows up, tell your staff to call me and I’ll handle it. I’ll start the paperwork with the police to make sure he gets the message, but until then, I need your assurance this won’t happen again.”

Karen nodded. “I’ll tell staff how you feel about Mr. Denton. But as I said, I can’t promise anything. We’ll do our best.”

“Great,” Jill said. “Now what else was it that you said? Something about a check?”

“Ah, yes. Mr. Denton gave me a check to cover some of your mother’s care.” She blinked. “I’ve already deposited it. Do you think that’s going to be a problem?”

“Oh, there’s going to be a problem, all right. I have to go now. Just please, please tell everyone here if Andrew Denton shows up they are to call me, and not to allow him to go to my mother’s room.”

Jill hurried out, her stomach a knot, and got into the car. She started it, but left it in park as she dug out the phone and pressed voicemail. There were no messages from Max, or the private caller.

Could it be Andrew?

She tried to focus, running over several things she could do. She should not have trashed Andrew’s business card. With a sigh, Jill finally pressed one of the numbers and put the cell to her ear.

“Dave, hi, it’s Jill. Can you possibly come over to my house this afternoon? I have something I need your help with.”

“You okay, honey?” her best friend’s dad asked. “Dorothy okay?”

“Yes. We’re fine. But I need some advice. I don’t want to go into everything now, but is your old partner still working at the FBI?”

“Yes.” Dave paused a moment. “It’s almost three now. How about four?”

“That’d be great. I’ll see you then.” Jill drove the short distance home, trying to order her mind as to what, exactly, she should tell Dave, and what she wanted him to try and find out.

She pulled into the driveway and her phone rang. It was Max.

“Hey, pretty woman, how did it go? Your mom okay?”

“Well, it was a long and confusing day for her, but all the doctors said she’s fine, although she has a cataract that has to be taken care of by the end of the year. Sorry I had to run out like I did earlier.”

“Don’t worry, please. I understand. When can I see you again?” His voice was low and intimate. “You want to come to the hotel tonight? We can swim in the heated pool and get room service.”

“That sounds perfect. How about seven?”

“No, come now.” He paused. “I thought you might like a massage first.”

A sigh escaped her. “Sounds lovely, but I need a couple of hours. I have some things to take care of.”

“Okay. I’ll see you at seven. Bring a bathing suit.” He gave her the room number and rang off.

Jill paused. She was unsettled, suddenly, at how quickly she had jumped back into an affair with Max, but her brain didn’t seem to be able to combat her hormones. She sighed and stuck the phone in her purse, her head full of a hundred conflicting impulses.

I should tell Max about Andrew. But first I need to get Dave’s opinion about what Andrew said about Ben Pierce.
She slammed the car door and hurried into her house.

Jill related the events of the last few days as Dave quietly listened. She ran through Good Friday’s surprise reappearance of her ex-husband, Max’s arrival the next day, and the burglary on Sunday. With a deep breath, she recounted Andrew’s offer of money if she helped with some cockamamie investigation into the murder of Ben Pierce.

She ended with the discovery a few hours ago that Andrew had visited Dorothy and posed as her husband.

She did not go into what had transpired between her and Max last night, but her nervous voice when she said his name probably told the retired cop everything he needed to know about that.

Dave’s expression was apprehensive when Jill repeated what Andrew said about working as a security consultant, and that there was a possibility the murderer of Ben Pierce could attend the reunion festivities. But he kept his questions short and offered no opinions.

Her father had always said Dave Hart was a great detective because he knew how to keep his mouth shut and listen.

Jill was apprehensive telling Dave all these convoluted facts, but was relieved to be able to share the burden of the last few days’ happenings with someone she trusted.

“I tried to look up Andrew’s company on the Internet, but there’s no listing online, so I don’t have any way to contact him about his visit to Friends House,” she said, wringing her hands together. “And he gave them a check for $20,000, not the $10,000 he first offered me! What is he up to?”

“Sounds like he’s trying to bribe you into helping him. Or he feels guilty about what happened, and he’s taking a roundabout way to make amends.”

“Amends? Like money could erase his behavior. I’m going to give him a check tomorrow to pay him back. I need to find out where to mail it.”

“He doesn’t know you very well, that’s for sure.” Dave smiled, but his eyes were serious. “I’ll make some calls. My old partner on the force is now with the FBI. Supervisor in the LA FBI field office. I’ll ask if he can go across to the ATF folks and make some inquiries about Ben. I would like to hear the circumstances of his murder from law enforcement.”