What Belongs to Her (Harlequin Superromance) (12 page)

Liam’s eyes darkened with concern. “Kyle Jordon is dangerous. His son has his father’s blood running through his veins. Be careful. Don’t go risking your life over something that once belonged to your grandfather. It’s not worth it.”

Even kind, wonderful Liam couldn’t possibly understand the firm ground the fair gave her to build upon. “It belongs in my family, Liam. I need it. My kids will need it. I have to do this.”

She pushed away on her bike with the weight of Liam’s gaze burning a hole in her back.

* * *

“W
HY
DON
’
T
WE
go to my office, Mr. Jordon?”

John smiled inwardly despite the shock of his father’s illness still bouncing around his body at a hundred miles an hour. The inspector’s emphasis on his surname didn’t go unnoticed by him or the other three or four uniformed cops working at the station reception desk. The officers stared openly, eyebrows raised. He steadfastly kept his focus forward and followed the inspector through a side door into the main arena of the station. It was a whirl of activity as the inspector walked among her inferiors with silent and confident authority.

Phones rang and voices carried above the noise of printers and humming computers, elevating his second headache of the day. She led him to an office at the far end of the room. Encased within two windowed walls, she had as much a view of her colleagues as they did of her. John wondered if her decision to keep the blinds open gave insight into the woman. Was she approachable and honest? Or was she forced to leave herself exposed to their judgment under duress?

She pushed open the door and waved him inside. “Take a seat.”

He did. When she made no move to close the blinds, but came around and sat behind the desk in full view of her staff, a spark of positivity caught inside him. Maybe today he’d get some answers about Kyle and the reputation he had in this seaside town. Inspector Garrett gave the undeniable impression that she was amenable and, secondly, that she listened.

He cleared his throat. “Thanks for agreeing to see me.”

She ran her cool green gaze over his face before picking up a pen and leaning back in her chair. Her demeanor appeared relaxed as she expertly laced the pen back and forth between her fingers. “I can’t say I wasn’t surprised or intrigued by your phone call. As you can imagine, once you and Sasha left the bakery yesterday, Marian was keen to fill in the blanks as to why you’re here.” She offered him a small smile. “Exactly how much of her musings are fiction remains to be seen.”

Immediately warming to this undeniably beautiful, enigmatic head of the Templeton police, John laid his hands loosely on the chair’s armrests and forced his wandering mind to focus on the task at hand rather than the prospect of Kyle dying. “I’m not in Templeton to cause trouble, Inspector.”

“So, why are you here?”

“Because Kyle requested it.”

She stared. “That instills caution rather than ease in me, I’m afraid.”

“Why?”

“Isn’t that obvious? Kyle was by no means Templeton Resident of the Year.”

“I’m not my father.”

“That remains to be seen. So, it was you who wanted to see me. Why don’t you get straight to the reason you’re here?”

John inhaled a long breath and released it. “It’s simple. I want to garner more detail to the very little I know about Kyle and his life in Templeton.”

She frowned. “You think a police inspector is likely to tell you anything about a convicted drug dealer? Your father was far from hospitable to his fellow man and I, for one, am glad he’s in prison.”

John cursed inwardly. His decision to appeal to the inspector’s better nature had come from his need to keep things aboveboard for as long as humanly possible. He didn’t want to lose his sense of integrity during his mission to uncover who his father really was. He was really hoping to glean information from the people of Templeton in as open and straightforward a way as possible.

He’d relied on the theory Inspector Garrett would tell him the kind of man Kyle was personally, as well as morally, in exchange for John being honest with her about his future intentions—once he’d figured them out. Maybe that theory was 100 percent off the mark.

He leaned forward. “I’d hoped you tell me about the circumstances surrounding his arrest. What he was like prior to that. Who his friends were. His enemies.”

She studied him as she bounced the pen gently against her jaw. Eventually, she tossed it onto the desk and stood. John forced himself to stay in his seat and not fidget as she rounded the desk and leaned against it, directly in front of him. She crossed her arms, her gaze unwavering. “Why don’t you be a bit more specific about what it is you want to know? Or even better,
why
you want to know. I’ve got zero intention of giving you any information without knowing why you’ve come to the Cove.”

Frustration simmered deep in his stomach. “Until a month ago, I hadn’t heard from Kyle since I was boy. Then, out of the blue, I received a letter from him asking me to come here and oversee things.”

“Oversee things?”

“It’s up to me what I do with his businesses now.”

“Businesses? Kyle wouldn’t know what legit business was if it up and slapped him in the face.”

“I agree.”

She studied him a moment longer before her gaze softened—a little—and seemed to pique with interest. “If you were estranged, why would he give you everything?”

“He has no one else he can trust.”

“Can he trust you?”

“I don’t know yet. That depends on whether I understand why he chose to never contact me.”

She raised her eyebrow. “He never contacted you at Saint Mark’s?”

John stiffened. “You know where I went to school?”

“Of course. I care about this town, Mr. Jordon. When I found out you were here, I dug a little deeper into Kyle’s background. Added a lot more to what I already knew. Your mother was killed during an armed robbery. She was an innocent civilian caught up in a horrific event. Kyle avenged her murder and paid for his crime. However, during that time, his eleven-year-old son was shipped off to one of the most prestigious boarding schools in the country.” She stared. “What I didn’t know was Kyle didn’t stay connected to you during the ensuing years.”

Nausea and anger twisted like barbed wire in his gut. “Clearly I don’t need to waste time explaining my family history.”

“I’m a cop. What else did you expect?”

She was right. He was Kyle’s offspring and the man was currently serving a sixteen-year sentence for drug offenses. The townspeople were hardly going to welcome him with open arms—nor was Templeton’s inspector going to roll out the red carpet. He swallowed and confidently held her gaze. “Kyle’s dying, Inspector.”

Silence descended.

The muted clang of activity and voices outside the inspector’s office suddenly sounded louder than before. John’s heart picked up speed. He’d said the words out loud; made it real. Two spots of color appeared high on her cheeks and she slowly closed her eyes. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

That
he hadn’t expected. “You are?”

“Yes.” She opened her eyes and moved away from the desk to stare out into the working station. “It was me who arrested your father, Mr. Jordon. I made sure he went away for a long time.”

Inexplicable annoyance prickled the hairs at the nape of John’s neck as he stared at her back. “You sound as though he didn’t deserve that. From what I know—”

“I didn’t say that. Kyle deserved everything he got.” She pivoted and planted her hands on slender hips. “It doesn’t mean I relish the prospect of him dying alone in prison. From what little time I spent with your father, he didn’t strike me as entirely bad. He helped me to put a coldhearted killer away for the rest of his life.”

Resistance rippled through John’s blood. He didn’t need to hear anything good about Kyle. He wanted his decision to do as he pleased, once he figured out what that would be, to be cut and dried. He owed the man nothing. Why should his father die with a clear conscience? He should die knowing the pain he’d inflicted on innocent people through the drugs he supplied. He should know his child never forgave him for leaving him alone after the violent death of his mother.

John wanted him to know that by making the decision to go after the man who killed her, he had left his son with an inert fear of abandonment. A son who made a conscious decision to live his life alone, yet help as many people as he could along the way. He never walked away and left anyone to deal with their hardships alone. He wouldn’t do that to Sasha, either. His ability to support people and see things through without resorting to violence proved just how unlike Kyle he really was.

With his heart beating steadily, John leaned back. “I went to Marchenton.”

A flicker of surprise shot through her gaze before she blinked and cool interest showed once more. “And?”

“And as per Kyle’s instructions, I went to see a former crack house of his...a crack house now owned by your husband. Why would he buy a place like that?”

Her green eyes turned dark with suspicion. Once more the chatter and noise from outside the office filtered into the room. “My husband’s affairs have nothing to do with you. Now, if there’s nothing else...”

He raised his hand in supplication. “You’re right. It’s none of my business, but will you at least tell me one thing?”

She crossed her arms. “What?”

“Did Kyle sell the house to your husband before his incarceration? Or did your husband buy it afterward?”

“Why does it matter? The property is now my husband’s.” She narrowed her eyes. “What’s your interest in it, Mr. Jordon? Whatever went on in there when it was Kyle’s is something I don’t want resurrected...there, or anywhere else in Templeton.”

“And it won’t be if I have anything to do with it. I need to know because Kyle wants me to believe the narcotics side of his business is over. I’m not going to let him paint himself as a changed man if it isn’t true. Was the closing down of the house enforced?”

She pursed her lips, her brow furrowed. Eventually, she blew out a breath. “Yes. Once he was arrested, the house went into repossession. My husband bought it because...” She lifted her chin. “He wants to use it as a symbol to the people in Marchenton that they can turn things around if they really want to.”

“In what way?”

“He’s going to turn it into a drop-in center. Despite everything your father represented, we’re hoping to utilize the place Kyle once used as a private hell for people dependent on him as a place for those same people to get help.”

John’s stomach churned. “I see.”

She walked to the door. Recognizing his cue to leave, John stood and approached her.

When they faced each other, she stared directly into his eyes. “I stand by what I said about Kyle. He wasn’t all bad. I think his reaction to your mother’s murder flicked a switch that couldn’t be turned off. Especially considering his time locked up with real killers...nasty killers. When he was released the first time around, I doubt any aspect of the man he was before he went in there remained.”

John’s battle to see his father as anything but a liar and drug pusher roared to life once again. “I really can’t understand why you’d cheerlead him this way.”

She glared. “Cheerlead him? I don’t think so.”

“Then why defend him?”

She pulled open the door. “Because I’m certain Kyle has some good in him. The question is, do you?”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I
T
WAS
ONE
o’clock the following afternoon before Sasha saw John again. The hairs at her nape prickled and she levered up from the stack of stuffed animals she was helping one of the stallholders store in the fairground warehouse. The fact she was in the only part of Funland she hated when she sensed him watching her, set her defenses screeching to high alert. He stood in the doorway, his face in silhouette due to the bright July sunshine streaming in behind him.

Her stomach flip-flopped as she strolled toward him, casually slapping her hands against her legs to rid her jeans of dust. Mindful of her decision to keep her cool and bide her time over the next few days, she plastered on a cheery smile. “Hi.”

He stiffened, and the quirk of his eyebrow proved her new tactic of being polite might just work better than she could’ve hoped. Maybe a little feminine compliance would be the secret to her success.

He cleared his throat. “Hi, yourself. I wonder if you might be able to spare me a few minutes. In the office.”

“Sure. I’m just about finished here.”

Nodding curtly, he turned and headed outside. She cast a glance over the satisfying sight of his back and butt before stifling the need to emit a particularly girlish sigh. She seemed to be continually battling her lust for the man. She inhaled a steadying breath and followed him, purposely slowing her pace to his quickening one. As much as she tried to make peace with what Liam had said to her about letting John know how deeply she needed the fair, she refused to utter any confessions or tell him about her history.

He knew enough already that any further words would only arm him in a potentially devastating way. From the moment they had met, her impassioned reaction to his arrival had set the tone and mood of their relationship. Did she really need to reiterate her desperation? From now on, she would play it cool and calm. No matter what he threw at her, she would react with grace and sanity.

Her secrets would remain secrets to everyone but Leah. During a telephone conversation with her best friend the night before, Sasha agreed Leah could meet John when the time was right. She was more than aware her friend’s motivation for their meeting was more grounded in her need to protect Sasha than anything else.

John entered the office and stood at the door, waiting for her. His passive expression almost fooled Sasha into believing his detachment, until she had to squeeze past his broad chest to get inside. When her gaze briefly locked on his, she recognized the storm of angry emotion he clearly fought to keep under control. Her stomach knotted. Now what?

She frowned. “Are you okay?”

“Sure. You?”

She lifted her shoulders even as her heart beat a little faster. “Sure.”

His eyes blazed with irritation, and his jaw turned to stone as he tilted his head in the direction of the desk. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

Steadfastly ignoring the tremble in her legs, she slid past him into the office. Her temper simmered just beneath the surface as she hesitated at the seat. The impulse to turn around and demand he tell her what was coming next was more than she could stand. She closed her eyes. She’d barely been in his company more than a few minutes and already the instinct to attack ricocheted through her system.

“Are you going to sit down?” His voice came from close behind her, the masculine spice of his aftershave jolting her desire into overdrive.

She swallowed. “Sure.”

He didn’t move and his breath gently lifted the hairs at the back of her neck. She resisted the urge to shiver. Clearly her decision to knot her hair on top of her head that morning had been a mistake. At least with her hair down, it took a gust of wind to penetrate its thickness and reach her bare skin.

Opening her eyes, she lowered into the seat with the regality of a queen. “So, what’s up?”

He sat in Kyle’s huge leather chair and, with his eyes on hers, slid a file box from the far corner of the desk and set it in front of him. His chest rose as he inhaled and then pushed the box toward her. “Some homework for you.”

She frowned as her burgeoning temper deflated and evolved into curiosity. “What’s this?”

“I’ve been busy over the past twenty-four hours. I’ve spent some time reconsidering your offer, but I also think before either of us can work toward what we want, we need to face what we’re dealing with.”

“Which is?”

“Kyle.”

She narrowed her eyes. This was nothing more than a delaying tactic. Kyle was gone. The decision lay with John whether or not to sell her the fair. “I’m dealing with you. Not Kyle.” She hesitated. “Aren’t I?”

“Yes.”

Frustration stormed through her mind and hopelessness threatened her heart. “Then what’s the problem?”

He spread his hands on top of the box. “These are papers on everyone Kyle considered of any importance in his life.”

She met his eyes. “Are you in there?”

He flinched like she’d slapped him and Sasha sucked in a breath.
What’s wrong with me? What happened to being nice?
She closed her eyes. “I didn’t mean... I didn’t mean that Kyle...” She opened her eyes.

His pallor had turned a strange hue of gray. If she bounced a coin off his jaw, Sasha didn’t doubt it would buckle on impact.

“Look, I’m sorry.” She pulled the box onto her lap and lifted the lid. “I assume whatever is in this file, Kyle wanted it kept private. Why are you showing this to me?”

“I want to know if you can shed any light on who these people are.” He shifted forward, his cheeks darkening, returning his skin to its former color. “If you know these people and can tell me how they’re perceived in the Cove, then it might give me a better idea of what Kyle was up to just prior to his arrest. The instructions he left me are sketchy at best. I don’t want to go about my business and end up unwittingly coming face-to-face with someone happy to smash my kneecaps.”

She smiled. “Does Templeton really seem like the kind of place you’d find that person?”

“No, but there was something that kept Kyle here.”

Her smile faltered. “That’s true.”

“He pretty much left things for me to deal with as I see fit, but for some reason he thinks the people in that box will help or hinder whatever path I decide to take. It would be good if I had an idea of who I’m dealing with before they start turning up demanding answers in the same vein you and Freddy are.”

She slowly closed the lid and folded her hands on top. “I think we need to start being honest with each other. I can’t go on like this. Am I putting myself in danger by helping you?”

His gaze was steady. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“You can’t promise that. You said you don’t know these people, and we both know Kyle didn’t associate with the nice people around town. You wouldn’t find him at the summer fete handing out fliers or whipping up a blanket to sell at the knitting stall. We need to start being honest.” She drew in a breath and exhaled. “Shall I go first or you?”

He studied her. His cool blue gaze languidly wandered over her face and hair.

Her heart beat hard and her mouth went dry, but enough was enough. This standoff between them couldn’t go on. “We’ve been circling each other like caged animals ever since you got here. I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of it. Having time away from here yesterday did me some good.”

Amusement softened his dark blue gaze and he smiled softly. “You mean you actually enjoyed being away from the fair for a while? Or from me?”

“Only you.” She met his smile. It was impossible not to.

Seconds ticked by as they sat smiling at each other and when Sasha’s cheeks turned warm, she dropped her gaze to the box in her lap. “I’m willing to help you work through whatever it is you want to do with regard to Kyle, but you have to give me some sort of incentive to help you.” She forced her gaze to his.

He watched her intently, his beautiful smile gone.

Drawing in a deep breath, she pushed on. “You can’t expect me to get involved with this—” she tapped the file “—without some sort of guarantee whatever I find isn’t going to bring my world crashing down.”

“I wouldn’t let that happen. So, you’re right. Honesty is the best way forward. What is it you want to know?”

Surprised at his ready agreement, she struggled to retain her cool. She gave a curt nod. “Why are you trusting me so much? Why let me learn about Kyle’s associates and what he was doing? What’s in it for you for me to know that stuff?”

“I like you, Sasha, and I know we’ve only just met, but I’m beginning to trust you, too. I want to give you the fair, but I won’t do that until I’m sure it won’t bring more trouble to your door. Regardless of what you think of me, I won’t abandon you to the wolves that could be circling this place. That’s something Kyle would do and, as I’ve told you before, I’m not him.”

Sasha stared. Past hurt was clearly etched on his face, and she prayed hers never showed quite so deeply. She looked at the box in her lap. “I know you’re not Kyle.”

“Do you?”

She met his gaze. His eyes shone with determination. “Yes. I also want to trust you and what you’re doing here, but I’m afraid. Afraid of being let down.”

“You won’t. If I’m convinced it’s safe to give you Funland, I will. We’ll look into the clause that stands between the place being yours and I’ll do everything in my power to get it overturned. I care about you, and I’m not holding back the fair to hurt you. You have to believe that.” He leaned his elbows on the desk. “Kyle’s lying to me. The house in Marchenton we went to see? He had zero intention of giving it up. It was repossessed after he was arrested and that’s just the beginning of the dishonesty I’ll undoubtedly uncover. He hasn’t seen me for almost twenty years, and he’s lying to me. I don’t trust him. I don’t think I ever will, so what he does or doesn’t want is no longer a part of the equation...if it ever was. Once I know everything, I’ll be able to move on and put the past to rest. I refuse to live there anymore.”

His jaw was tight and his gaze icy cold. A shiver of trepidation ran up Sasha’s spine. The past. God, she understood him so much. The similarities between them were as unnerving as anything Kyle could or couldn’t have done to either of them.

She shook her head and desperately pushed away the threat of her demons as they rose and hovered around her like a dark cloud. “I still don’t understand why you need my help.”

He leaned forward and placed his elbows on the desk, clasping his hands together. His knuckles turned white, and Sasha flicked her gaze to his eyes. They were somber. “I think you play a bigger part than either of us knows in Kyle working to get the fair from your grandfather.”

She frowned. “Why would you think that?”

“When he wrote asking me to come to Templeton, he said he’d had enough of running the businesses, but also that he’d done some things he shouldn’t have. Things he deemed worse than the lives he messed up by supplying cocaine for God knows how long.”

“What can be worse than that?”

He closed his eyes and Sasha’s trepidation soared.

“Before my father was sent to prison the first time—”

“The first time? He’s been in prison before? For what?”

“I can’t tell you that. Not yet.”

“I thought we were going to start being honest here.”
Just as you are, you mean?

“Once upon a time my father held family as the one true thing in life. The one thing we should respect and cherish.”

Anger shot through her blood in a hot, piercing stream. “You’re lying.”

He snapped his eyes open. “What?”

“How can you say that when Kyle willingly ripped the one thing my family had to call their own right out from underneath them?”

“Exactly.” He stood and came around the desk. When he gripped her hands in his and held tight, preventing her from fleeing as she wanted to, Sasha’s fear of entrapment crawled through her veins.

She glanced toward the door. “I need to get out of here. I need to work. I don’t want to listen to this.”

He squeezed her hands, his gaze darting over her face. “He mentioned your mother. Even said he regretted using her, whatever the hell that means.”

She stared. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing, couldn’t believe he would say those things. “Why are you doing this?”

“I’m convinced he used your mother’s derision of Funland to get it from your family. For better or worse, the fairground deals in loads of cash every day. It was the simplest way for him to launder money and build new drug contacts.”

Revulsion hurtled through her as the vile words tumbled from his mouth. Her heart raced and her mind filled with images of her mother’s face, twisted in disgust every time Sasha begged her to help keep Funland in their family and not let Kyle turn it into something so loathsome, mothers would stop bringing their children and fathers would want their families to avoid it at all costs.

She squeezed her eyes shut. “My mother wouldn’t do that. Yes, she hated this place. Thought it made our family look like gypsies and felt that made us inferior to others in Templeton, but to let it go to Kyle when she knew what he was...”

“I’m not lying to you. God knows, it’s harder to tell you the truth. It’s you, Sasha. I’m convinced the whole thing with the clause, your grandfather, I think you’re the key to unraveling everything about this place.”

“Why?” She opened her eyes as raw hurt and panic rushed through her. Her heart beat fast.
Does he know? Does he know what happened to me here? Does Kyle?
“What are you talking about? Your father barely spoke to me.”

“He knew you were likely to go after the fair once he was in prison. He knew and asked me not to sell it to you under any circumstances.”

“Me, specifically?”

“Yes.”

“This is crazy. Is my money not good enough for the great Kyle Jordon?”

His gaze darted over her face, her hair and her lips. “This isn’t about money.”

“Then what the hell is it about?”

“I can only assume he doesn’t want to face what he’s done. How low he sank for greed and money. If you gain full access to the fair, you’ll eventually find out everything.”