Declan hated seeing the tears in Grace’s eyes. She cared deeply about her roommate. That she would do anything to help her friend said a lot about Grace. She was a human being with a heart as big as the Wyoming skies.
He stared at the writing on the page of the book. “Who was the he—the one she wanted to show himself?” he asked, drawing attention back to the problem they both needed to solve.
Grace curled her fingers into a fist. “And who were the they who wouldn’t let her quit?”
“Anything else in that book?” Declan asked.
Grace rifled through the rest of it, but the pages were blank and nothing shook loose. “That’s all.” She flipped to the back and stopped. “No, wait.” On the last page was a number and the initials SBOA. She held the page up for Declan. “What do you think this might be? Anything?”
He studied it for a moment. “Could it be an account number and the initials of the business?”
Grace studied the initials and shook her head. “I have no idea.”
Declan tapped his chin, trying to think what the numbers and letters meant. “Does she have any paperwork here in the apartment? A file of some sort?”
Grace nodded. “She has a small fireproof lockbox, where she keeps all her bills and legal documents.”
“Where?” Declan asked.
“In the bottom of her closet.” Grace leaped up from the bed and ran to the closet. She dove into the back, hauled out a laundry basket and some shoes, and then dragged out a heavy metal storage container the size of a one-drawer file cabinet. She sat on the floor beside it. “This is what she uses to hold all her legal documents and account information.”
Declan tried to open the box, but it was locked tightly. “Any idea where she might keep the key?”
Grace’s lips twisted. “On her key chain. The one she probably had with her when she disappeared.”
“Does she have a spare set?” Declan asked.
Her eyes narrowing, Grace tilted her head. “I think so. Now, where did she keep them?” She glanced around Riley’s bedroom and shook her head. Then her eyes widened. “The kitchen. She keeps a spare set of keys hanging on a hook in the pantry.” Grace hurried past Declan and out into the living room.
Declan followed close behind.
When Grace reached the kitchen, she pulled open the door to the small pantry. On the inside panel of the door was a set of hooks. One had a key chain with a bright red plastic heart and several keys on it.
Grace snatched the chain from the hook, spun around and walked straight into Declan’s chest.
Declan wrapped his arms around Grace’s waist to steady her.
She rested her hands, keys and all, on his chest, her eyes rounded, her breathing ragged. “Oh, I’m sorry... I didn’t know you were there.”
“It’s okay.” He stared into her beautiful eyes, captured with how clear and gray they were. For a long moment, he stood with Grace in his arms, unwilling to move and break the spell she held him under.
Then she swallowed and raised the hand with the keys. “I found it.” Her voice was no more than a breathy whisper, drawing attention to her mouth and her pale, rose-colored lips.
Before he could think about what he was doing, Declan bent and brushed his mouth across hers. When he realized what he’d done, he reached for the key ring and set her to arm’s length. “My apologies. I don’t know what got into me. No, that’s wrong. I do know what got into me. But it doesn’t make it right.” He turned and walked back into the bedroom, surprised Grace hadn’t accused him of taking advantage of her with that unexpected kiss. He wouldn’t be surprised if she told him to leave and never come back. He’d overstepped the boundaries of his position more than once.
For that matter, what was his position when it came to Grace? He was there to help her find her roommate. But she wasn’t his boss. Charlie was his boss. What did that make Grace? His partner? What did it matter? He had a job to do. Find Riley. Nowhere in that job description was the task of seducing Grace.
But he wanted to.
Boy, did he want to. When his arms circled her body, he had to fight his natural urge to tighten his hold. And he’d lost that struggle when he’d kissed her.
Hell, he had to remember he was damaged goods. Nothing he could do would erase the black mark on his military record. It would follow him around for the rest of his life. Anything he did would be tainted with that mark. And he’d been so very proud of his job, his connection with the US Marines and, most of all, his position on Force Recon.
He had nothing to offer a woman like Grace. Not a home, nor a bankroll. She deserved someone with a clean record and an unsoiled past.
He selected the bright silver key on the key ring, slipped it into the lock on the box and twisted it with a little more force than necessary, angry at himself, the situation and the injustices of the world.
The lock opened, but he hesitated, his breathing ragged, his heart pounding. The one little kiss reminded him of all he’d given up when he’d made the decision he had back in Afghanistan.
Would he do it again?
Hell, yeah.
Then he had to accept it and move on. Without Grace.
A hand on his shoulder brought him back to the task before him. “Are you all right?” Grace asked.
“I’m fine,” he said through gritted teeth. He swung open the door and pulled out a drawer with neatly arranged files in alphabetical order. He thumbed through to the s tab, where he found several receipts from businesses starting with the letter s. He kept moving through the file until he reached a folder marked Signature Bank of America.
He checked the number on the account against the number on the page in Riley’s journal. They didn’t match.
“Apparently she banks there, based on the statements,” Grace said. “But why would she have a different account number?”
Then it struck Declan. “Could it be the number on a safe-deposit box?”
Grace frowned. “Why would she have a safe-deposit box?”
“Most people put things of value in a safe-deposit box. Something they don’t want lost or stolen,” Declan said.
“Do you think whoever broke into the apartment might be looking for that something?” Grace asked.
“Maybe.” Declan dug into the SBOA file and located a sealed envelope. “I’d ask if she’d be mad if I was going through her things, but I think we’re way past that now.” He ripped open the envelope and found a sheet of paper and a strange heavy key with a number engraved on the side. The number matched the one written in the back of Riley’s journal. “Bingo.”
Grace drew in a deep breath. “Doesn’t Riley have to be the one to get into her own safe-deposit box?”
“Yes. Unless you have permission to enter the box.” Declan held up the sheet of paper.
Grace leaned over his shoulder, her long blond hair brushing against his cheek. “She created a power of attorney for me? How did I not know this? Why wouldn’t she tell me?”
“Maybe she figured you didn’t need to know,” Declan guessed.
“Until I needed to know.” Grace folded the paper and tucked it into the journal. She hugged the book to her chest and stared up into Declan’s eyes. “What’s next?”
“We go to the police station and see if we can get any information out of our burglar,” Declan said.
“Well, we did come here for the laptop.” Grace pointed to a shelf by Riley’s bed. “It’s there.”
Declan grabbed the laptop from the shelf. “You said there’s nothing on it, but we’ll take it with us if we don’t get the answers we’re looking for.”
Grace nodded. “Too bad it’s too late to go to the bank.”
Declan gave her arm a gentle squeeze. “We can go there tomorrow.”
* * *
GRACE WAS MORE than willing to let Declan do the driving. Declan found a piece of plywood near the apartment trash bin. He borrowed some wood screws and an electric drill from Mr. Miller, the neighbor in the apartment two doors down. In a few short minutes, he had the doorjamb fixed enough that they could lock the door and leave, feeling moderately sure no one would be able to get in easily. Not that there was anything else of any great value inside to be stolen, other than the television.
Nothing in the apartment was irreplaceable, except Riley.
A knot formed in Grace’s throat as she sat beside Declan. She had no idea what she would have done without his assistance and support. She’d have been waiting by her telephone for the police to call. She would probably have been home when the intruder had entered her apartment.
Her hands shook as she held her purse with the journal and the key to the safe-deposit box inside. What would she have done if the intruder had caught her alone? Sure, she’d have fought tooth and nail to protect herself, but would it have been enough?
And what was Riley having to deal with? Was she being held somewhere? Or had it been Riley who’d texted her to get out of that bar when the three thugs had come in to get Moretti?
Hope had been fleeting when she’d thought Riley might be trying to protect them. Since that text, she’d heard nothing more. She’d even sent a text back to the same number, but received no response. Minutes later, the text had shown up as undeliverable.
In one day, her seemingly insignificant worries about finding a full-time job had morphed into life-or-death concern for her roommate and now herself. Whatever had frightened Riley into hiding might have put Grace into just as much danger. The people after Riley had killed her boss. If Grace had been home alone when the intruder broke in, she too might be dead. She had Declan to thank for sneaking into Riley’s office with her, being with her at the bar and scaring off the intruder from her apartment.
She stared across the console of her SUV at the man driving. “I know so little about you,” she admitted.
His lips twisted. “You’ve only known me a day. And vice versa.”
Grace snorted. “Do we ever really know other people?” Her fingers tightened around her purse, which contained the journal that had revealed so much more about her friend than Riley had ever shared.
“What do you want to know about me?” Declan asked, his attention on the road ahead.
“Other than why you were booted out of the Marine Corps?” When he turned with a frown, she held up her hand. “You don’t have to say unless you’re ready. How about we start with something less damning, like what were you like growing up? Are you the youngest or oldest of your siblings, and what’s your favorite song? We have at least five minutes at this stoplight, based on the line of traffic in front of us.” She gave him a wry smile. “Go.”
He sighed. “Like I said, I grew up outside Cheyenne, Wyoming. We lived on a small ranch with cattle, horses and wide-open ranges to run around on. I have one sister, Susan, and two brothers, Patrick and Daniel. Our parents are still alive and, like I’d already told you, they are probably wondering why I haven’t contacted them since I got back from deployment.”
“I can’t believe you haven’t let them know you’re safely back from Afghanistan.”
Declan’s lips pressed together. “My father is a retired army infantryman. One of my brothers is an Air Force pilot and the other brother is army infantry like our father. My sister joined the navy as a nurse. Call me a coward, but I don’t know how to tell them I was kicked out of the Marine Corps. I didn’t want to go home with my tail between my legs.” His hands tightened on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white with the strength of his grip. “I had to find my way back.”
“Based on Mrs. Charlotte Halverson, you have a job now. Isn’t that enough?”
He shook his head. “I haven’t proven myself yet.” He shot a glance her way. “I haven’t found Riley. As Charlie would say, I haven’t made a difference.”
“Charlie?”
He gave her a tight smile. “Charlie doesn’t like me calling her ma’am.”
Grace had met the woman and figured she was a force to be reckoned with. “After we find Riley, will you talk with your parents and let them know what happened?”
He nodded. “I love my folks. I just don’t want to disappoint them.”
And Grace could bet that Declan couldn’t stand to see what he would expect to be the disappointment in their faces. If they truly loved him, which she suspected they did, they would not judge him and find him wanting. They would be ecstatic to have him home. They would understand whatever decisions he’d made and support him all the way.
But Declan had something to prove to them. No...to himself. He had to find his own worth and new path in life before he could go back home.
The light changed, and Declan drove on. Soon he pulled into the police station, where the officer in charge had indicated they’d taken the intruder.
Dusk settled over the city and streetlights flickered on.
Inside the station was a hub of activity. Men in uniform led lawbreakers past the front desk and into interrogation rooms and holding cells. Grace really had no idea how it all worked. She clutched her purse to her side and followed Declan inside, where he asked for the detective working the breaking-and-entering case at her apartment complex.
The desk sergeant scanned his computer, clicked the keyboard and frowned. “Are you sure they brought the suspect here?”
“That’s what the officer in charge of the investigation at my apartment told me.” Grace fumbled in her purse, her pulse beginning to race. “He said I could speak with the detective on the case, if I wanted more information.” She gave up on her purse when she remembered where she’d placed the sheet of paper. Grace pulled the note the officer had given her out of her back pocket and handed it to the sergeant. “This is the address he gave me and the name of the detective. Detective Romsburg.”
The desk sergeant stared at the paper and shook his head. “That’s this address, but we don’t have a Detective Romsburg.”
Grace blinked. “No? Not now? How about in the past?”
The sergeant shook his head. “Not now or ever—that I know of. Not at this station or in this precinct, at least not for the past twenty years I’ve been here.” He handed the paper back to her. “I’m sorry, miss, I don’t have record of the break-in. We can’t help you.”
“But I placed a 911 call. You have to have record of that,” Grace said.
“Address?”
Grace gave it, along with her phone number.
The sergeant frowned and clicked his computer keyboard. His frown deepened. “I have record of the call and then another call to cancel the request, saying the caller was mistaken.”
“That can’t be right. I didn’t call back.” Grace’s head spun and she felt the blood drain from her face.
“Sorry, ma’am. That’s all I have,” the sergeant said.
Declan gripped her elbow and held her steady until the dizziness passed. “Thank you for your assistance, officer.” He turned Grace and marched her out of the building.
“What’s going on?” Grace asked as soon as they cleared the exit. “Why would that sergeant lie about the break-in?”
“He might not have been lying. The officer in charge at your apartment might have given you the wrong address. Let me get on the phone and see what I can find out. In the meantime, we’re going to get you some food and take you back to your apartment for rest.” He hooked her elbow and led her toward the SUV.
Grace dug her heels into the pavement. “But we haven’t found Riley. We can’t give up now.” She knew she was being unreasonable, but her frustration level had maxed out. “I can’t give up on her. She’s all I have.”
“Tell me about her on the way back to your place. Maybe we’ll get lucky and she’ll be there, waiting to fill you in on her latest adventure.”
Grace frowned at Declan but let him lead her to the vehicle and help her inside. “You don’t really think she’ll be there, do you?” she said as he fastened her seat belt around her waist.
He smiled and pressed a brief kiss to her lips. “We can always hope.”
The brief kiss had her head spinning even more. How could she think straight when the man kissed her? And not for the first time. The first time had taken her completely by surprise.
What did it mean?
Nothing. Don’t read anything into that kiss. He’s just being nice.
And the kiss was really nice. His lips were soft but firm, warm and dry. And sexy as hell.
Declan slid into the driver’s seat and paused before starting the engine. “I did it again. I’d say I was sorry, but I’m not. I can’t help it. Every time I’m near you, I can’t help kissing you. Tell me to stop, and I will.” He finally glanced her way, his eyes a light blue. But it was his mouth Grace couldn’t lose focus on. That mouth that made her lips tingle and her insides coil for more.
Grace touched her lips, pressing her fingers against them to stop the tingling. But the sensation wouldn’t go away. “It’s okay.”
“No,” he said and started the engine. “It’s not okay. I shouldn’t kiss you. I’m supposed to be working for you to find your roommate. This isn’t the time or place. Maybe I’m the wrong person for this job.”
She touched his arm. “That kiss was more than okay. For that brief second, I felt safe and hopeful. Maybe it wasn’t the right time, but I needed it.” Grace dropped her hand to her lap. “I needed it,” she whispered.
And she had needed that human contact. More than that, she’d needed a reminder that she wasn’t alone.