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Not often you saw three Beaver aircraft in the same place, thought Jake as he watched Logan taxi in alongside the dock.
Jake had dragged out his meeting with Stan, while hoping this would happen. He’d needed to actually see Tara. And talk to her. So he could figure out what was going on, figure out whether the feelings they’d had nearly a year ago had been fleeting or if he’d have to deal with still being attracted to someone he didn’t trust. He also wanted answers from her regarding Brady. Would her take be the same as Stan’s? Perhaps they had a rehearsed story they stuck to?
Tara ran to Stan and was immediately wrapped up in his embrace.
“Jake.” Logan circled a finger in the air then made a “hang-loose” signal to indicate they should be wary of long-range devices in the area. “What brings you here?”
“Visiting Stan. Airplane talk.”
Grace’s expression said she thought it was more likely that he’d hoped to run into Tara here, and he nodded. Watched Tara lead Stan to the plane and they climbed into the back.
“What’s up?” asked Jake.
“She’s probably showing him the feline cargo. You should go have a look.”
It was exactly the invitation he’d been hoping for—and of course she’d known that.
When Jake hopped in and closed the door, he spotted the white noise machine, and nodded, understanding they were creating interference just in case unknown sources were mining for audio.
Instead of saying hello, Tara introduced him to the kitten on her lap.
“This is Phoenix. Nixie, for short,” she said. “Charlie found her trapped in an old barrel and the poor thing was nearly dead. He’s in love with her.”
“Watches her the way he used to watch you,” said Stan. “Before you got strong.”
No point letting an opening go by. “Was that when you first got back home?”
She nodded. “Took me a while to snap out of it.”
“You held it together until Charlie was well. Stared at him day and night as though you were willing him to live. Then your roles switched for a while,” said Stan.
They were hovering at the edge of something and Jake decided to push. “Time’s short, so I’m going to just dive in here. I get the feeling you’re both hiding something about Thomas Brady and what happened when you lived with him, Tara. I know it’s personal and I know it’s hard, but please, help us nail him to the wall. Tell me what it is you know.”
Her jaw clenched. Stan never took his gaze off her. And Jake’s attention swung between them. Neither spoke. He’d outwait most, but these two didn’t look like they’d fold.
He tried a different tactic. The unexpected. “Why didn’t you tell me you owned an island?”
Tara’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open, but still no words came out and Stan simply laid a hand on her arm. They made each other stronger, so this was a bad idea, but hell, he was in it now.
“You told me you had no other family besides Stan. But what about Hannah? Why can’t I find anything about her, neither birth nor death records?”
She shook her head and he saw the tears well as she put the kitten in Stan’s lap and wrenched the door open.
“Tara.”
“No.” He heard pain in the single word she said before she dropped onto the pontoon then leapt to the dock.
He tore his gaze from her retreating back and looked at Stan. “Why can’t she tell me the truth?”
Stan closed the door. “Does it make any difference that she ran away instead of lying to you? Because you need to understand that was her only other option.” He stroked the sleeping kitten before setting it into the tote with Charlie and fastening the lid. “She said they’d let her have twenty minutes here. Our time’s up.”
And Jake had stolen some of it from them, which just added to his discomfort. He and Stan climbed out as the threesome approached. Their goodbyes were solemn. Jake had no idea when he’d see her again and wasn’t happy with the way their brief meeting had gone, but he had to touch her. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into a hug, whispering in her ear, “I’m not done with you.”
He nodded to Stan. “I’m gone too.”
“You wanted the guest book. It’ll just take me a minute to get it, and maybe it’ll help.”
Stan jogged to the house, returning minutes later with the book Jake had been about to leave without.
Time to get his head back on.
“I’d like to have it back eventually.”
“I’ll make sure of it. Thanks for your help, and your hospitality. I hope the next time we meet it will be in celebration of Thomas’s capture.” And ultimately, his conviction.
Jake taxied out, turned, then poured power, and, one pontoon at a time, lifted the aircraft gently off the lake. The flight home was long and uneventful, giving him time to sort through what little he’d learned. He was coming away with more questions than answers, but that wasn’t a bad thing either. Now he and Rachel would be digging deeper in an entirely new direction.
#
In the Meyers boardroom carrying on with research, Jake leaned back in the chair. “I’m getting nothing on this Hannah. It’s like she evaporated when she signed the place over to Tara.”
“Likewise here,” said Rachel. “The law firm responsible for maintenance on the island claims they work for Tara and they’ve never had any connection to Hannah since they received the lump sum and the paperwork from her attorney over thirty years ago—an attorney who has since retired, and then died at the ripe old age of ninety-three, so I have no suspicions regarding his passing.”
“What exactly does maintenance entail?”
She read from the document on her screen. “In September, the pump is shut down, pipes are winterized and drained. Storm windows are closed and the doors are bolted against intruders. The portable portion of the dock is dragged onto shore and fastened well above the high-water line. All areas are mowed if there is a need. In March, the property is checked for damage from winter storms, and in May, it’s opened up for habitation. That is, the pump is serviced, turned on and primed, the windows uncovered, yard cleaned up, et cetera. Hang on.” She clicked and scrolled for a minute.
“The checks are written to Island Services, and no, they don’t have a website, blog, or anything else I can find online. Probably some local guy with a ‘doing business as’ account.” Her fingers flew on the keys. “Damn. Getting nothing. Canadian privacy laws are pretty stringent and we really don’t have cause here, so I don’t think Interpol would help us get a warrant.”
“So that’s a dead end?”
Angie marched into the room. “Message from Quinn. He wants everything in here cleaned up. No sticky notes, no hard copies, no browsers left open. We have company coming.”
“Who?”
“No idea.” She turned her wrist to look at her watch. “ETA in less than thirty, and I’m outta here. Dhillon’s spending the day with dad, and I have an appointment. Catcha later.”
#
From behind Grace and Logan, Tara’s gaze landed on the pregnant woman first, then Jake, and her heart rate, which had been up since they landed at the ranch, bumped higher still.
“Tara,” said Quinn. “Rachel. She’s been working on—”
Rachel elbowed him in the gut.
“Omph.”
“I’m a data processor and living in sin with his older brother,” said Rachel. “Pleased to meet you.” She held out her hand and flashed a brilliant smile.
Jake’s deep chuckle slipped over Tara like a warm blanket while Quinn drew Rachel against his side and planted a noisy kiss on the top of her head. “Tara, this is Rachel Meyers, who is my wife, the mother of my unborn sons, and the person who keeps me in line, obviously.”
Tara laughed along with the others and the tension they’d brought in with them dissipated like mist on a windy day.
Grace hugged Rachel. “As always, you’re a breath of fresh air in this family. I’ve missed you.”
“How much longer is junior an indoor guest?” asked Tara.
“A month, but I’m thinking about evicting the pair of them sooner. They’re night owls, and I like my sleep.”
“Twins. Oh, my. And I’m feeling hard done by getting up in the night for Nixie’s feedings.”
“Nixie?”
Tara stepped around the others to show Rachel the bundle of orange, black, and white fur cradled in her arms. Charlie followed them into the room.
Jake crouched to greet the big cat and was the recipient of a head butt. “Hey pal, how’s tricks?” He rubbed between Charlie’s gray ears and was rewarded with a rusty purr.
“He’s flushed me for a younger woman,” said Tara. She kept Jake in her peripheral vision. “Doesn’t even sleep with me anymore, the traitor.”
Jake showed no reaction.
“Nothing like a knight in shining armor complex,” said Rachel. “He and Quinn should compare notes.”
“Moving on to the business at hand,” said Quinn. “What brings the three—or five—of you here today?”
“It was my idea,” said Tara. “I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, and Grace said this ranch is like Fort Knox. I’m hoping your offer to make camp here for a while is still open, and maybe you’ll allow me to help out with the search for Brady?”
Rachel was first to respond. “I like that idea. And there’s tons of room. You and your kids will be comfortable there.”
Tara still wasn’t sure being so close to Jake was the best idea, but what other choice did she have? Would it give her false hope? Or worse, would he avoid her and give her no hope at all? Which would be the better option?
“How about you two?” Rachel asked Grace. “Your usual rooms are there if you want them.”
“We’ll stay tonight.”
#
Jake didn’t waste any time. Took Tara for a long walk, because he wanted to be alone with her, and needed answers. Once they were far from the house, he asked, “Why did you take the plane?”
She stared out over the vast landscape of mesquite and dust. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“Cop out.”
She spun toward him, her jaw clenched, and if eyes could shoot flames, hers would have. “There were lots of reasons. Good reasons.”
“Explain them to me.”
“You don’t give an inch, do you?”
When he didn’t answer, she threw her hands up. “I’m a mature, independent woman whose private life is being monitored and manipulated by people I barely know. And that makes me very uncomfortable.” She took two steps away from him and spun around.
“You, Grace, and everyone else, all seem to think you know what’s good for me. Where I should go, what I should do. Let me tell you, I don’t work that way. For my entire life—yes, back as far as I can remember—I was given choices. No one ever said...” She hesitated and he wondered what she’d edited out. “I was never told I had to do something, nor was anything forbidden. I was allowed to choose my own path. Sure, the choices were pretty obvious, but it was still up to me. Things like, yes, I could have a second piece of cake if I loaded the dishwasher first, or I’d have to do three more laps in the pool and eat all my broccoli every night for a week, so I could do something special. If I wanted a new toy, it came out of my own fund, so that put a crimp in my savings for the big items. Kid stuff, sure, but I learned choices and I learned consequences.” She flexed her jaw as though it hurt from the tension.
“Brady stole all of that away from me. Stole who I was because I wasn’t brave enough to run away from him until I had no choice at all. So when I was put in protective custody without any options, not even a warning when they moved me from the island to the ranch, I had to do something.”
He had no idea what to say and all he wanted to do was wrap her up in his arms and make her pain go away, but she looked like she’d shatter if he touched her. At a complete loss, he repeated the words he’d heard offered in tough situations. “I understand that would have been difficult for you.”
Tara stared at him, wide eyed. “Difficult? Fuck you.” She stormed off, hands fisted at her sides, boots assaulting the ground. He wouldn’t have been surprised to see steam shooting out of her ears. The lady did mad, really, really well, and he’d obviously screwed up.
Probably should have manned up and put his arms around her. “Next move’s mine.” He took a short cut through the scrubby trees and into a gulley that led to the place she’d come out as long as she stayed on the trail.
He didn’t have to wait long for her to come barreling around the bend, and to an abrupt halt.
“How?”
“Spent a summer here when I was a kid.” When she said nothing, he plowed on. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” she demanded.
“For whatever I said that pissed you off.”
A strained sound that could pass for a half-laugh, half-sigh, and total exasperation, assured him she wasn’t going to let him off that easy.
“Anybody ever tell you that placating an angry woman is the best way to push her over the edge? That would be figuratively, instead of literally, which would actually seem like the better choice.”
“I grew up with sisters. Learned early to say what they wanted to hear. If that’s placating, I’m guilty, but alive to talk about it.”
“Doesn’t work on me.”
“I noticed.” And considering he hadn’t seen a whole helluva lot of the real her, it was the first time he’d seen this side and wouldn’t soon forget. It was his turn to hesitate. He didn’t want to screw this up. Needed to get to know her better. Time to try a different approach. If only he could figure one out.
“Did you really want to know why I took off?”
Well, so much for trying a new subject. “Yes.”
“Why?”
Bullet. Bite. “I think we’ve got something special between us, but we’re strangers.”
“If you’ve forgotten about the days and nights we spent together at the cottage, that’s a deal-breaker.”
After taking a last swallow from her water bottle she clipped it to her belt loop and he took her hand. “Come on, we should head back.”
“You’re avoiding my last statement.”
She wasn’t looking at him. In fact, it seemed like she was purposely looking away as she picked up speed.
He kept pace beside her. “Good chemistry doesn’t mean we know each other.”
And here, thought Tara, here’s where she had a problem because she had no clue about knowing another human being. She didn’t have friends. The people in her life were all acquaintances. Well, except for Stan, and really he was there for her, but she didn’t know anything about him as a person. Didn’t understand anything about their relationship.
She didn’t want to lose this opportunity now so she’d try to figure out who Jake was and see if that helped. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.”
“Like what?”
“Favorite things. That’s an easy one. Give me a list.”
“My favorite things?”
She couldn’t interpret the look on his face. Couldn’t decide if he was looking for clarification or questioning her question. So she simply nodded and he eventually responded.
“The ocean, mountains, surfing, skiing. What does that tell you?”
“That you like the outdoors and like to play hard.” Now what? “Food. You’re in a steakhouse, what will you order?”
“Scallops wrapped in bacon, fillet, medium, fries, no veggies.”
“Drinks and dessert?”
“Bud, and mudpie.”
“Burger joint. What do you want on your burger?”
“The works, bacon, cheese, ’shrooms, onions. Tall cola, fries.”
“Breakfast at home?”
“Alone?”
Yikes, now she could see him at the stove in the cottage, laughing at her while cooking breakfast. That’s what she wanted now. That laughter, and the heat. If he’d just kiss her and forget about all this other stuff—
“Tara?” When she glanced at him, he shook his head. “You went away for a minute.”
“Sorry. Distracted by breakfast.” And feeling all warm inside now.
“When I’m home alone, breakfast is coffee and a toasted bologna sandwich with mustard.”
“Ick.”
“Why did you change your mind about running away?”
She sighed. Great interrogation tactic, tossing in the unexpected. “Like I already told you, it was all about having choice taken away from me.” It didn’t seem like such a big deal now, but it had at the time. “Once I was out there on my own and weighed the pros and cons, it made more sense to return to protective custody.”
“What scares you the most about Brady?”
“The fact that I don’t know where he is, so he could pop up in front of me anytime, anywhere. Maybe even here.”