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Authors: Barbara Freethy

Taken (5 page)

BOOK: Taken
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She moved slowly to the front door and looked through the peephole. Her heart sank. How had he found her?

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door to the same tall, dark-haired man with the furious green eyes who’d been at Nick’s house. He’d traded the slacks and button-down shirt he’d been wearing earlier for a pair of worn blue jeans that clung to his long, lean legs, and a charcoal-gray sweater that was pushed up to his elbows. His brown hair was damp from a recent shower, his cheeks clean-shaven. His skin showed off a dark tan, as if he’d spent a great deal of time in the sun. There was nothing soft about his features. His face was hard and angled, his jaw
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Barbara Freethy

set in an unyielding, determined line. With his hands clenched in fists on his hips, he looked ready to hit someone. She hoped it wouldn’t be her.

“What are you doing here?” she asked warily.

“I have a better question — what do you think of my new car?” he asked, his sarcasm clear. “I found it in my garage, right where I usually park my black Grand Cherokee,” he continued. “I also saw a payment made to the car dealer out of my bank account.”

“I’m not sure what you want me to say,” she said.

“Do you know who purchased it?”

“My husband. I was with him when he bought it. He said it was about time he picked a car just for fun.”

“Oh, I’ll bet he had some fun, all right. What happened to my car?”

“He traded it in. He said it was too practical.”

The man glared down at her. “Where is he? Where is the man who robbed me?”

She didn’t want to admit that Nick had stolen anything. But he certainly had a lot of explaining to do. “I don’t know. If I did, I’d be talking to him right now.”

His ruthless gaze searched her face for the truth. She wanted to look away, but she couldn’t. She didn’t want to appear as if she were hiding anything.

“I spoke to the police,” he said a moment later. “I gave them your name.”

“That’s fine.” She straightened, throwing back her shoulders. “I filed a missing-persons report when Nick disappeared, you know, as soon as I got back from Lake Tahoe.”

“You went to the police?” he asked in surprise.

“Of course I went to the police,” she snapped. “My
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husband disappeared without a trace. I thought something terrible had happened to him.”

“You got married in Lake Tahoe? Let me guess, one of those drive-through wedding chapels?”

He made it sound so tawdry. “It wasn’t like that. We just wanted a simple, quick ceremony.”

“Why? Are you pregnant?”

“No!” The word burst out of her. “Of course not.”

“Just asking. It’s a reasonable question.”

“Not from a complete stranger,” she snapped back.

“Oh, we’re hardly strangers, Kayla,” he drawled, bitterness edging each note. “You apparently took my name when you got married. You’ve been in my house, probably slept in my bed, used my shower —”

“Please don’t go on.” She put a hand to her stomach, feeling like she wanted to throw up. What kind of mess had she gotten herself into?

Nick shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down the street, then back at her. “So when did this guy take off — when you got back from Tahoe?”

She licked her lips, knowing that her reply would make it all sound worse, but there was no point in deny-ing what he could learn from the missing-persons report.

“He vanished on our wedding night. He went out to get ice and he never came back.”

“He left on your wedding night?”

“Don’t make me say it again.”

“How long ago was that?”

“A little over two weeks.”

“What did the police do when you told them?”

“Nothing. They told me that with no evidence of a crime, it was more than likely he just decided he didn’t
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Barbara Freethy

want to be married. They said they didn’t have time to pursue it. They have hundreds of more important cases.”

“They told me the same thing. Apparently identity theft is a booming business. I don’t think they’re going to pound the pavement looking for my thief.”

“I know you won’t believe this, but I wish they would,” she said. “Because I want to know what is going on, too. I want to find out what happened to my husband.”

“If you wanted to know the truth, why did you run away from me before?” he challenged.

“You scared me,” she admitted. “And I was confused.

You want me to believe that you’re Nick Granville, that everything I thought belonged to my husband was yours — is yours.” She folded her arms in front of her chest. “It’s not easy to stop believing in someone you love. But if the man I married was in some way impersonating you or stealing from you, I need to know that.”

“Then you and I have to work together,” he said. “I want you to tell me everything you know. I need every detail, no matter how unimportant you might think it is.”

“That will take some time.”

“So we’ll get started now. I don’t want to waste another second. The trail is already cold, and I can’t let it get any colder. I intend to get my life back as soon as possible.”

She nodded. “You’d better come inside then, but I have to warn you I don’t know much. That’s become apparent to me in recent weeks.”

“You know what he looked like. We can begin there. I want to get an image of this guy in my mind.”

She started, realizing she could do better than describe
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him. “I have a picture.” She moved away from the door, grabbing her purse off a nearby table.

He followed her into the entry, shutting the front door behind him.

“We had a wedding photo taken,” she added as she dug into her purse. As she flipped through her pictures, she came to Nick’s smiling, laughing blue eyes, and felt an odd sense of relief that she could prove he actually existed, that he’d married her. It wasn’t a dream. He had been real. She slid the picture out of its plastic case and handed it to him.

He gave it a hard look. “Damn.”

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I know this man.”

Nick stared down at the photograph. Were his eyes playing tricks on him? Even though the face was older, there was no mistaking the sun-bleached blond hair, the shrewd eyes, and the knowing smile. He’d never thought he’d ever see him again, but here he was in Kodacolor.

“What do you mean?” Kayla asked. “How do you know him?”

He lifted his gaze to hers. “His name is Evan Chadwick. We went to college together.” A burning anger swept through his body, making his hands shake and his gut twist into a hard knot. He wanted to rip the photograph in two. He wanted to tear up the image of Evan’s face, but he couldn’t do that. This picture was proof, evidence he would need later when he found Evan.

“You went to school together?” she repeated in surprise. “You’re friends with . . . with the man I married?”

“Not friends, no — enemies.” His jaw was so tight he could barely get the words out.

“Why? What happened?”

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Barbara Freethy

“A lot,” he said shortly. “I shared an apartment with Evan in my junior year at Cal. It took me six months to figure out who he really was.”

“I don’t understand. What do you mean — who he was?” she asked in confusion.

“Evan was a thief, a con artist. He scammed his way into college with fraudulent transcripts. Once there, he ran small games, big games, whatever would make him a buck, give him a thrill. I’m not sure what he liked more, the game or the payoff. Actually, that’s not true; I do know. Evan liked to make fools of people. He enjoyed playing them for suckers. It made him feel powerful, strong, bigger and better than he was.” Nick tasted bile on his tongue. Anger rolled through his body in forceful waves. He’d thought he’d closed the door on Evan Chadwick. He’d believed that he’d won the last round, but apparently the game wasn’t over. Evan had just been waiting for the right moment to strike back — twelve long years later.

“That doesn’t sound like the man I married,” Kayla said, doubt in her voice.

She wasn’t the first woman to defend Evan. His younger sister, Jenny, had once spoken very much the same words. She’d had the same confused look in her eyes then as Kayla did now.

“Evan was very good at being whoever someone wanted him to be.” Nick deliberately kept his voice calm, even though inside he was seething. He had to make Kayla understand. He had to pull her over to his side, or they’d never get anywhere. “Evan was a chameleon. He could fit in anywhere, look like he belonged. Once he pretended to be a visiting professor at the university. He went to a faculty tea and mixed in as if he truly were a forty-TA K E N

37

year-old teacher of astrophysics. Evan knew how to get people to trust him, and then he betrayed them. That was the way he worked then, and it sounds like the way he’s working now.”

Kayla stared at him for a long time. He could see the indecision in her eyes, but at least she was still thinking and not jumping into rationalizations or defenses.

“What else do you know about him?” she asked.

“What do
you
know?” he shot back. “You married him a few weeks ago. You’re probably more up-to-date than I am.”

She hesitated. He suspected she very much wanted to blow him off. She wanted to believe in her dream marriage. It didn’t surprise him. Evan had always known how to pick a trusting soul. He’d always chosen beautiful women, too. Dressed down in jeans and a T-shirt, not a speck of makeup on her face except a slash of red on her lips, Kayla had a beauty that was all natural: gorgeous hair, fine bones, clear skin, big, wide eyes, and curves in all the right places. He cleared his throat, reining in his wandering thoughts. He’d always been attracted to brunettes, not that he intended to be attracted to Kayla.

He didn’t need that complication.

“All right,” she said finally. “We’ll talk it out. I’m not saying I believe everything — yet. But I’ll listen. And I’ll tell you what I know.”

“Good idea.”

“I hope so. I’ve been a little short on those lately.”

Kayla waved her hand toward the archway leading into the living room. “Why don’t you take a seat? Make yourself at home. I’ll get us something to drink.”

As she walked down the hall, he blew out a breath of
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Barbara Freethy

relief that she hadn’t kicked him out. She was his only link to Evan. He needed to know everything she knew.

Entering the living room, he was struck immediately by the warmth of her home. There were colorful throw rugs on the hardwood floor, soft, pillowed couches along the windows, and flowers everywhere — on the mantel, the coffee table, the old piano that stood in front of a beautiful stained-glass window that seemed to catch the light from the rising moon. Knitting needles sat atop a pile of colored yarn spilling out of a wicker basket on the floor.

The room looked lived-in and comfortable. It was a family home in a family neighborhood. He wondered if Kayla lived here alone. It didn’t seem like a house for one person. It also didn’t seem like a house Evan would choose to live in. It was too old-fashioned, too homey.

What the hell had Evan been doing with Kayla, besides the obvious?

Nick sat down on the couch, feeling suddenly tired. It had been a long trip home. With everything that had gone on the past few hours he’d barely had a chance to catch his breath. Stretching out his legs, he sank back into the cushions and let out a long, tense breath. It didn’t make him felt better. Fury raged inside him, eating him alive. If he found Evan tonight, he’d probably kill him. He could imagine himself putting his hands on Evan’s neck and squeezing the life out of him. The depth of his anger shocked him. He’d never felt so much hate for another person. But Evan had conned him before, and it infuri-ated him that it had happened again. This time Evan would pay. This time he would not get away.

Nick looked up as Kayla reentered the room. She handed him a glass of red wine and sat down in the arm-TA K E N

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chair across from him. Clasping her hands together, she asked, “Why do you think Nick — Evan — was pretending to be you?”

“That’s what I need to find out. Obviously, Evan knew I was out of the country. He probably figured I had some money.” Nick took a sip of wine and then deliberately set the glass down on the coffee table. As appealing as it was to numb his brain with alcohol, he needed a clear mind.

“If Nick . . . I mean Evan — it feels strange to call him that,” Kayla said. “If he was robbing you, why was he with me? Why did he marry me?”

“He must have wanted something from you.”

She frowned at that. “I don’t have much. And he didn’t take anything from me.”

“He didn’t get you to put him on your bank account or ask you for a loan or anything like that?”

“No, nothing. There really wasn’t time, because he vanished right after we got married.”

Nick was surprised that Evan had married Kayla. Why had he taken that step? “Tell me again what happened the last time you saw him.” He leaned forward, resting his arms on his thighs.

Kayla drew in a deep breath. “He went to get ice, and he never came back. I looked all over the hotel for him. I called security. The next morning they found his coat in a bathroom off the casino. It had his wedding ring in the pocket. That was it. I didn’t know if someone had robbed him, kidnapped him, or hurt him in some way. I actually still don’t know what happened to him. I just know he’s gone.”

“I wonder why he needed to leave that night,” Nick mused. “Did something happen between the two of you?

Did you have a fight?”

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Barbara Freethy

“No, everything was perfect.”

Nick watched Kayla play with the silver chain around her neck. The glittering diamond heart drew his attention.

“Is that new?” he asked. “Your necklace?”

Her hand paused, her eyes widening. “Yes, Nick — I mean Evan — bought it for me. It was a wedding present.”

“That explains the charges at Clarington Jewelers.”

BOOK: Taken
9.47Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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