Virgin in Disguise Page 7

  “Tell me about your mother.”

  Thunder growled, louder and closer.

  Elf sipped from her nearly empty glass, then got up for a refill. “That’s not a question.”

  “Okay. What is your mother like?”

  She stood at the counter, wiping condensation from her glass, not looking at him. “She’s…fragile.” Outside, wind pushed through the tree branches, sending leaves and twigs flying through the air. “I like to remember her when she was happy and always smiling. That was the best time.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Ten.”

  “Why doesn’t she smile anymore?”

  She shook her head. “That would be a third question.”

  “It was a good hand.” He pushed a little, testing her reaction.

  “Not good enough.”

  “Okay.” Advance and retreat. He’d gotten some information and could afford to wait for another opportunity before pushing again. He shuffled, dealt and deliberately threw away a pair of aces.

  She laid out her hand—a pair of queens. “How long have you been on this case?”

  “Two months.”

  She won the next hand without any help from him. “What are you investigating?”

  “Insurance fraud.”

  “That’s vague.”

  “When you have something more than three of a kind, we’ll talk.”

  He laid down the next winning hand. “What about your father?”

  She shook her head.

  “I beat your pair.”

  “You’re too vague. Ask a specific question.”

  Time for the next push. “When did he walk out on you and your mother?”

  “He did not walk out on us.” Her voice trembled with fierce undertones.

  Lightning split the sky and a crash of thunder rattled the kitchen window behind his head. Electricity crackled in the air.

  Her eyes snapped with anger. “He was a police officer, killed in the line of duty by an arsonist who’d skipped out on bail.”

  That explained a few things. He didn’t like how it was all connecting, either.

  Topping it all off was one detail he’d like to verify as soon as possible, because it really mucked up his investigation.

  If his suspicion proved correct, The Diamond Group’s client and Elf’s mother were one and the same.

  Maryam Donovan.

  Chapter 6

  Angel gathered the cards and began shuffling. She needed the mindless action to get her emotions back under control. The cards slapped onto the table like small-caliber pistol reports as she dealt out the next hand.

  Cabrini’s question hadn’t been unexpected, but his assumption hurt. She knew her father hadn’t been a saint. He’d been all too human. And he’d been a great dad. He hadn’t deserved to die like that.

  When Cabrini laid down another winning hand, she braced herself for his question.

  “What was your worst date?”

  She blinked, surprised. “Going soft, Cabrini?” Why wasn’t he asking a follow-up question?

  “You opened the topic when I had the four of a kind. It got me to wondering about your social life.”

  “Nonexistent would be a good adjective.”

  “You don’t date? Ever?”

  “Not if I can help it. My friends have set me up on occasion, but…” She waved a hand in dismissal. “Tina especially has tried, but she mostly comes up with cops, and that’s never gonna work.”

  “Why not?”

  She pushed the cards towards him. He’d have to win the answer to that question if he really wanted to know.

  His pair beat her hand of ten over nothing. “Why not?”

  “You really want to know?”

  He nodded.

  “Fine. I don’t do casual. If I’m going to get serious about a man, he better stick around for the long run. Law enforcement, military—most men in uniform—have a tendency to leave. They seem to lose interest real fast when they realize I can match them story for story about saving the world from scumbags.”

  “Bet you never threw a game to let a guy win.”

  She snorted.

  “Didn’t think so. Good.”

  She held the next winning hand. Four queens should buy her some information. “About your investigation…who’s your client?”

  “Sorry, Elf.” He tossed his cards on the table and leaned back. “Some things are off-limits. I’m sure you understand the need for client confidentiality.”

  “We haven’t established proof that you have a client. Or that you even are a detective.” If he was going to use her words against her, he’d better be able to back them with more than a story.

  “True.”

  “In fact—” she leaned back in her chair and mirrored his posture “—I have no way of knowing if anything you’ve told me bears any resemblance to the truth.”

  “Also true.”

  “Impasse.”

  “So it would seem.” Cabrini gathered the cards into a neat stack.

  Distant thunder signaled an end to the afternoon storm. “Any bright suggestions?”

  The whispery shuffling of cards filled the silence. He never looked at his hands, concentrating instead on her. “Do you suppose the storm has improved your phone’s reception?”

  “Probably not, but it’s worth a try.” She retrieved the phone from the charger and flipped it open. “No signal.”

  “How far do you think we’d have to go to get one?”

  “Not far. I think there’s a tower fairly close. We just need to get out of the trees. We could walk to the end of the drive and see if that makes a difference.”

  “I’m willing if you are.”

  “What good will it do? It’s Saturday. Who are we going to call?”

  He laid the deck of cards on the table and spread them in a tidy arch. “You’ll call Information and get the phone number for The Diamond Group in Washington, D.C. That way, you don’t have to waste time suspecting any number I call of being a setup.”

  She nodded. His logic ran along the same lines as hers. “Then what?”

  “Then you call the agency. At that point, you’re going to have to trust me, Elf. I’ve got a code that’ll connect me to the owner’s private line. Even if it is the weekend, Kat will answer.”

  “You lied.”

  “No.”

  “Ah, yeah. You said you couldn’t reach her.”

  “No, I said she would have left the office, which is true. And that she might have her line forwarded. Also true, provided you have the code. I do.”

  “Okay. Fine. But until then, we don’t go anywhere without the handcuffs.”

  He slid out from behind the table. “What are we waiting for?”

  The temperature had dropped further with the storm’s passage. Puddles stood out on the gravel road. She pulled on her thick-soled tennis shoes and a sweatshirt, then snapped the cuffs over their wrists.

  The heavy rain had washed the air, leaving behind a mix of fresh pine and rich, woodsy smell. Every scent seemed magnified, including that of the man walking beside her. Their shackled hands swung companionably. Nerves all along her arm tingled with awareness of Cabrini.

  The afternoon had played out in a far more interesting manner than she had expected. The exchange of information had been primarily casual, with each of them slipping in more in-depth questions when the opportunity arose.

  Cabrini was nothing like the men she usually met in her line of work. Under any other circumstances, she’d be very attracted to him.

  The possibility should bother her. Whatever the attraction between them, it wouldn’t be long-term. One way or another, he’d leave and she’d be alone.

  She wanted the kind of relationship she remembered her parents having. There had been laughter, hugs, whispered exchanges. She remembered how her mother’s eyes had danced with happiness.

  That happiness had been destroyed by her father’s death.

  No, emotional entanglement was
n’t worth the pain of loss when it ended. She’d done well to keep clear of all that.

  As they walked, she held her cell phone in her hand, watching the signal. The trees thinned closer to the county road, and the symbols flickered. When they reached the end of the drive, the reception held steady. She dialed Information for the D.C. number and accepted the connection.

  A car passed them as they stood on the shoulder, the engine noises soon fading into birdsong.

  Somewhere in the distance, a couple of all-terrain vehicles chased through the woods. The Department of Natural Resources hadn’t finalized the ban on ATVs in this area yet, and vacationers were squeezing in every last ride they could.

  Her phone line clicked and a voice mail system picked up. She listened long enough to confirm she’d reached the right number, then handed the phone to Cabrini.

  He punched in a series of numbers, then handed the phone back to her.

  Two rings later, a woman’s voice answered. “Kathleen McKay. This better be good.”

  “Ms. McKay, my name is Angela Donovan. I’m a bail bond enforcer in Minneapolis. I have a man in custody who claims to work for you.”

  “Minneapolis?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Frank followed the conversation easily, fairly confident he could predict most of the information Kat would provide in response to Elf’s questions.

  He knew exactly when Elf began to believe he was who, and what, he said he was. Her shoulders relaxed and she studied him with unflinching directness. When he winked at her and mouthed, Told you so, she shook her head and responded with a warm, full smile, dimple and all.

  His stomach did a weird little dip and roll.

  The conversation finally wound down, and she handed the phone to him. Kat spent no time on pleasantries, opting instead for her usual direct approach.

  “A bounty hunter?”

  “So it would seem. You vouched for me?”

  “I told her you were disreputable and she shouldn’t trust you any farther than she could throw you.”

  “She already figured out that much.”

  “Smart woman. I look forward to reading your report on how she got the better of you.”

  “Yeah. I’m sure you’ll find it real entertaining.” He didn’t look forward to writing that part of the report. “With a little cooperation, I might be able to include her client’s name. She hasn’t revealed his identity to me yet.”

  “You’re sure she has one?” Kat’s tone turned serious.

  “Yes.”

  “Have you told her who we’re working for?”

  “No.”

  “Do you think they’re related?”

  “That seems to be a strong probability.”

  “Has your investigation been compromised?”

  “I don’t think so, ma’am, but I intend to find out. As soon as we get back to civilization.”

  Kat’s sigh came over the phone line. “I just sent a team to Hawaii. It’ll be a week, at least, before I can get reinforcements to you.”

  “Not to worry. I’m sure Ms. Donovan will be more than willing to work with me.”

  The line went silent for a moment. “Keeping her close is probably a good idea.”

  Frank thought so, too, but for very different reasons than his boss implied. He laced his fingers through Elf’s and held tight as she tried to tug free.

  Angel gave up after the first try. It wasn’t like she could get very far away from him anyway. Not until she got the cuffs off. She had little choice but to tolerate the intimate touch.

  He ended his portion of the conversation and handed the phone back to her. “Well, are you satisfied?”

  “That you’re a private investigator? Yes.”

  “So we can lose the bracelets?”

  She nodded. The cell phone chimed.

  “And head back to the Cities?”

  The phone display showed the voice mail icon. She pressed a few buttons. “There’s a message from earlier this morning.”

  Dex’s voice played back in her ear. “Angela, I’m hoping you get this message before it’s too late. I’ve made some arrangements and will be at the cabin sometime tomorrow. Stay put, and we’ll get this matter dealt with very soon.”

  “What?” Cabrini prompted when she stowed the phone in her pocket.

  “We’re staying.”

  “I need to get back to Minneapolis.”

  “Hot date?”

  “No, just my job.”

  That stopped her for a minute. “We can’t go back yet. That message was from my client. He’s going to meet us here tomorrow. Have a little patience, and I’m sure all your questions will be answered.”

  “Why is he coming here? Why don’t we go back and meet him in Minneapolis?”

  “Because he said to stay here.” She tugged on her hair. “I don’t know. I wish I had a better idea of what was going on.”

  “So do I.” He lifted their linked hands. “But first, why don’t you dig out the key and undo these?”

  “No key.”

  His hand convulsed around hers. “Not funny, Elf.”

  “Not trying to be, Cabrini. I didn’t bring the key.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “I wasn’t going to take the chance you’d try to wrestle it away from me.”

  He pulled her close, tucking their cuffed wrists behind her back. “You mean like this?” He began to pat her down, searching her pockets. She struggled against him for a few seconds, then stilled as his frisking turned to caresses.

  The rain-freshened air mingled with the scent of his warm skin, surrounding her with an intoxicating blend. He tightened his arm around her waist, snuggling her closer, until nothing but a breath separated them.

  “Or maybe you mean this.”

  She tensed, expecting him to exert his dominance with a controlling sort of kiss. Instead, he dipped his head and brushed his lips over hers. Soft. Once, twice. Then he nipped and nibbled at her lower lip.

  Her breath escaped in a shuddering sigh.

  A passing car honked, breaking the mood, saving her from his next onslaught. She stepped away from him, knowing the only reason she could do so was because he allowed it. Raking a hand through her hair, she turned back to the driveway.

  “Let’s get back to the cabin.” She started walking, hoping he’d follow and not use the handcuffs to drag her back and force her to negotiate.

  He fell into step beside her, lacing his fingers through hers once more, and didn’t say a word.

  Blessed be for small favors. She needed some quiet time to figure out what had just happened. Between her reactions to his kiss and the phone conversation with his employer, she had a lot on her mind to sort through.

  The easy stuff first—it seemed he really was legit. But she still didn’t know the specifics of his investigation or who his client might be. Without that information, she couldn’t begin to guess why Dex thought it necessary for her to hold Cabrini hostage in the north woods. “Will you tell me who your client is?”

  “I can’t. Not yet, anyway.”

  She shrugged. She hadn’t really expected him to change his mind, but a girl could hope.

  He gave her hand a little squeeze. “What about you? Will you tell me?”

  She shook her head. “I need to talk to him, first.”

  Cabrini pulled her to a stop. “You can’t tell him who I work for.”

  “Look, it’s obvious there’s some kind of mistake. He only knows that you’re hiding behind an alias and digging around in the past. That’d make anyone suspicious. Once he knows the truth, we can put this whole thing to rest.”

  “No. Not until you tell me who your client is.”

  “Not until he’s given me the okay to reveal his identity.” Impatience sharpened her voice.

  “I’m going to find out tomorrow, when he gets here.”

  “So it won’t kill you to wait a few more hours to find out, then, will it?”

  “Are you dizzy yet? ’C
ause I’m getting there.” He started walking again. “Come on, let’s get back to the cabin before the mosquitoes come out in full force and carry me away.”

  She took a cleansing breath. Frustration and confinement didn’t suit him very well. She didn’t like it much herself. A change of scenery might do them both good. “If you promise to behave yourself, maybe we could go into town for supper.”

  “Someplace with real vegetables on the menu?”

  The hope in his voice had her considering sticking her tongue out at him. “Hey, at least you didn’t go hungry and you got plenty of calcium. With big bones like you’ve got, you probably need all the help you can get.”

  They climbed the steps to the front porch of the cabin. He reached in front of her to open the door. She breezed past him, only to stumble to a halt just inside the entry.

  “What is it?” He kept his voice low.

  “I’m not sure.” She looked around the entry. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

  Nothing looked out of order, but there was something in the air that hadn’t been there when they left for their walk.

  He nodded. “We need to get these cuffs off. Where’s the key?”

  Angel didn’t answer him. She edged her way around the kitchen to peek into the living room. As she looked for something that would explain the hairs standing up on the nape of her neck, she slid the flattened spike from her belt. Slipping it into the handcuff, she released the ratchet, freeing Frank’s hand.

  He grabbed her wrist and lifted it to get a look at her handy little pick, then raised a questioning eyebrow at her.

  She shrugged as she snapped the empty cuff around her wrist and returned the pick to her belt.

  They both rubbed the backs of their necks, mirror images of each other. Then he brushed a hand across the nape of her neck, sending little waves of heat chasing down her spine to collide with the sense of danger lodged between her shoulder blades. She ignored both, and nodded, silently acknowledging that she also had the uneasy feeling something was about to happen.

  She signaled for him to check the main floor as she worked her way up the stairs.

  Nothing seemed amiss in any of the rooms. She retrieved her Airweight from the gun safe in her dresser and met him by the sliding glass patio door.

  “Anything?” she whispered.