Ultimate Fear (Book 2 Ultimate CORE) (CORE Series) (10 page)

Divorce
.

He’d hoped she would never sign the divorce papers and that they’d eventually reconcile. After last night, he knew it had to happen. What they were doing to each other was unhealthy. Neither of them could move forward if they were stuck in the past. He didn’t want to sell the house or finalize the divorce, but at this point, it was the only solution. He still loved Jessica, he still wanted to give their marriage a shot, only she hadn’t. Which hurt like hell.

And now she’d disappeared.

“No,” he answered. “The vegetable garden is fine.”

She grinned. “Really? So my idea worked?”

“Not at all.”

“But you said the vegetable—”

“Because it
is
fine. I’ve got a timer on the sprinkler. So no more stops back to the house for watering, and no more text messages.”

Her smile fell. “I’m sorry. If you need help creating good
feng shui
—”

“I’m good, thanks.” Fuck the
feng shui
. He needed a good divorce lawyer. It had been so long since their divorce papers had been drawn up, his attorney had since retired. But first, he needed to find his soon to be ex-wife.

He stepped out the door. “Since you don’t have an office yet, feel free to use mine. I’ll call you.”

“Any idea when you’ll be back?”

“Soon.” He hoped, and headed down the hallway, giving Lola a quick wave over his shoulder. He might love Jessica, but last night had made him realize he’d been a fool to hang onto something that no longer existed. The sooner they cut ties, the better. He wasn’t interested in finding someone new, he simply wanted to ease the stress she’d continuously put him under, and find an emotional and spiritual plane that would bring peace to his soul.

Who the hell was he kidding? He wanted to punch the fucking wall. The anger and resentment inside of him had become harder and harder to restrain. He’d set those festering emotions aside last night hoping he’d been wrong, that they could—if Jessica bothered to make an effort—make their marriage work. Instead, she’d shoved their daughter’s disappearance down his throat and had made it about
her
. About how devastated
she
felt. What about him? Had she become that obsessed and self-absorbed? Couldn’t she see he was still just as devastated?

Now she’d decided to go off the grid, likely to investigate another bullshit, wild-goose chase. A little too convenient and coincidental for him. He climbed into the Camaro, started the car, then peeled out of the parking garage. Did she think he was stupid? That he didn’t understand what she was doing? She didn’t want to be married to him, but she didn’t want to let go of the marriage, either. She’d agreed to finalize the divorce, then suddenly disappeared. Yes.
Very
convenient and coincidental. Or rather, an excellent excuse to avoid the inevitable.

Screw that.

After she’d left last night, he’d tried to eat the lasagna but hadn’t had an appetite. Instead, he’d opted for a few glasses of Jack and Coke. Self-destructive tendencies weren’t in his nature, but damn it if Jessica didn’t sometimes bring out the worst in him.

She’d also made you a better man.

Like last night, he didn’t want to consider that now. He didn’t want to think about how she’d been the one to talk him into becoming a SEAL, then later, after he’d opted to not reenlist, how she’d encouraged him to take the chance and accept a position with CORE. If it wasn’t for her pushing him and encouraging, he might have gone a different route. He’d loved being a SEAL, but also hadn’t wanted to be numbered in their divorce rate statistic.

How’s that working out for you?

Right. But he still had no regrets over leaving the Navy. He’d wanted to be with his wife and enjoy the home they’d worked so hard to buy and remodel. He’d wanted to start a family and go into a line of work that wouldn’t constantly put him in danger. Sure, he’d been in dangerous situations as a CORE agent, but nothing in comparison to when he’d been with the SEALs. Now he was in danger of losing his wife and house. Normally, he wouldn’t back down from a fight, but he didn’t see his situation with Jessica turning into any type of victory. They’d both lost so much. Better to raise the white flag and accept defeat before they wound up hurting each other more than they already had.

His stomach tightened with anxiety when he parked his car along the street near Jessica’s apartment. He hoped to God she’d decided to hole up inside and was simply avoiding Alex’s calls. If she had gone on another wild-goose chase and hadn’t left a trail behind in her apartment, it could be days before he found her. The last time she’d left without a trace, she hadn’t returned to Chicago for nearly a week.

If she kept doing this kind of crap, she could end up losing her job. Plus, it wasn’t good for her mental health. Every time she found a new lead on their daughter and it ultimately failed to pan out, she became more determined to continue her search. The stress she put herself under showed. He hadn’t been lying last night. She’d become too skinny. She’d never been the type to wear a ton of make-up and mess with her hair. Naturally pretty, she hadn’t needed to. But
au naturel
wasn’t working for her. She’d become too pale, the dark smudges from lack of sleep too prominent. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d looked genuinely happy and didn’t have worry lines creasing her forehead.

As he entered the six-story brick apartment building, he thought back to the day he’d first met Jessica. He’d been twenty-three, in his fourth year with the Navy and on a two-week leave. His dad had owned a used car dealership just outside of Chicago, and he’d gone there that day to hang out and check out the new inventory. Jessica had stopped by looking for something inexpensive and reliable. Before his dad or any of the other salesmen could pounce on her, he had. Growing up around the dealership he knew cars, so pretending to be a salesman hadn’t been difficult. The thing was, he couldn’t have cared less if she’d bought a car from his dad, he’d been more interested in acquiring her phone number. Man, she’d been something else. Those eyes of hers had had him tongue-tied. They’d reminded him of an Olive Matuka fishing fly, dark brown with flecks of olive green. Her long and wavy dark blond hair had emphasized her eyes and that smile…

He reached her apartment door. Damn, he missed that smile. He missed everything about her. The press of her naked body against his. Kissing her, holding her, loving her. He shoved the memories he’d been clinging to aside. Their marriage shouldn’t have to end. They were stronger than that, and after knowing and loving her for nearly seventeen years, he couldn’t picture not having her in his life. But he had no choice. Self-preservation demanded that he give up the fight and let her go before they ended up hating each other.

With that last thought in mind, he knocked on her door. After giving her a few minutes to answer, he called her cell. Before he broke into her apartment, he wanted to make sure she was indeed MIA. Otherwise she’d probably raise holy hell for invading her space uninvited. Since she’d never asked him inside before, he suspected there were things she didn’t want him to know about. Like how much her search for their daughter had escalated into a full-blown obsession.

When she didn’t answer his call, he opened up his lock pick kit and went to work. Twenty years ago, he’d never thought he’d be adept at picking a lock. Who knew it would take working as a criminal investigator to master breaking and entering.

The lock gave. He pocketed his tools, then turned the knob. His stomach tightened again. If Jessica was keeping secrets, now was his chance to discover them.

He inched his way into the small apartment, then froze. “Is that thing loaded?” he asked Jessica and eyed the .38 Special she pointed at his head.

She lowered the weapon. “You scared the hell out of me. What would you do if someone was breaking into your house?”

“Then why didn’t you answer the damned door?”

“The same reason I didn’t answer my phone. I’m not taking calls or visitors today. Thank you very much.”

“Because?”

“I’m busy.”

“And you didn’t think you should, at the least, give your partner a heads up that you weren’t going into work?”

She rolled her eyes and let out a sigh. “I told you I was busy. Calling Alex slipped my mind.”

Bullshit. “Even after he called you and then came to your apartment. Why didn’t you just answer the phone or the door? And don’t give me the
I was too busy
crap.”

“I was.”

“No. You’re rude and inconsiderate.”

She narrowed her eyes and, after setting the gun on their old card table, which she was clearly using as both a desk and dining room table, she moved for the door. “Get out,” she said. “If that wasn’t rude enough for you, I’m sure I can spice it up a bit.”

Damn, the woman had a mouth on her. A sexy mouth that could make him forget anything else existed when she smiled or kissed him. Or when she’d take his hard length and—

He crossed his arms. “No need to go there. I already know you have a potty mouth.”

“Glad you’re aware. Now leave.”

“No.”

“Dante, I’m warning you—”

“Are you going to call the cops on me? Oh, wait. You
are
a cop, who happened to blow off work because…?” He glanced around the small, one bedroom apartment. The layout wasn’t exactly open concept, but the living room and dining room opened up to each other, giving him a clear view of the walls, which were covered with several bulletin boards and tons of newspaper clippings. A printer and scanner sat on overturned plastic milk crates in the living room. She had thick binders and folders all over the apartment, and her laptop glowed from the card table. “That’s right. Because you were too busy running your own investigation.”

She shoved away from the door and hurried to the card table. “What I do is none of your concern.” She closed the laptop. “While you’re here, why don’t we take care of what we discussed last night,” she said, moving into what he assumed was the kitchen.

When she left the room, he stepped toward the dining room’s main wall and scanned the newspaper clippings.
Parents Seek Missing Child. Identity of Child Still a Mystery. Missing Girl Found Dead; Police Search for Others. Hunt for Missing Boy Continues. Mother of Missing Girl Waits for Answers.
His stomach turned as he glanced away from the yellowing clippings and looked at the dozens of Amber Alert and missing children posters coating the plaster like wallpaper. He’d expected Jessica to have info on his daughter’s case, not other parents’ missing kids, and realized her obsession might have taken a different direction. If he was correct, Jessica wasn’t just looking for Sophia, she’d become a crusader, trying to find as many kids as possible.

He hoped he was right. He’d rather see her put her investigation skills to use on these other cases, than only focusing on one.
Sophia
. When his daughter’s image came to mind, he quickly dispelled it. Unlike Jessica, he refused to dwell on Sophia’s fate. At first, he had. He’d considered all the bad things that could have happened to his little girl until it had consumed him. She’d been all he could think about and he’d spent the first year of her disappearance going through the motions. Other than Jessica, who’d barely communicated with him, he’d spoken to very few people. He’d worked, but his head hadn’t been on his cases. His wake-up call had been when he’d screwed up one of his investigations. The woman who had hired CORE, and had depended on him to help stop the man who’d been stalking her, had ended up hospitalized after her stalker had nearly beaten her to death. When that had happened, he knew he had to pull his shit together.

He’d realized how emotionally and physically unhealthy it had been to allow his fears and grief to consume him. The anger bottled inside him, the overwhelming sadness that ate at his soul, wouldn’t bring Sophia back to him. While he wanted more than anything to have his child back in his life, he was pragmatic enough to know that, statistically, the chance of that happening was about as good as him winning the Lottery.

“Here,” Jessica said, entering the dining room and shoving a stack of papers at him. “I signed the divorce papers. Now that you have what you wanted, you can leave.”

He glanced at the papers, his skin crawling at the sight of them. “Throw them away. They’re worthless.”

“Excuse me?”

“After you left, I did some research. Illinois is a no-fault state.”

She tossed the papers on the card table and folded her arms across her chest. “Meaning?”

“Meaning, after the first two years since you started this, all I needed to do was submit a document to the Court and request a Final Decree on the divorce. Since I didn’t know I could do that, and since it’s been over
three
years, the Court will dismiss our case as inactive. Now one of us has to re-file.”

He’d expected anger, but swore she looked relieved. His chest filled with hope. For years she’d dragged her feet and had avoided finalizing their divorce. Last night, when he’d crowded her against the kitchen counter and brought up whether or not she still loved him, her eyes had filled with tears and her face had crumpled in agony. Yet she’d said nothing. She hadn’t told him she loved him, but she also hadn’t said she wanted the divorce finalized. Instead, she’d tried to turn his words against him, to the point where
he
had been the one demanding a divorce he hadn’t wanted. Now they were still legally stuck together unless one of them made the move to re-file. And it sure as hell wouldn’t be him. Call him a fool or a glutton for punishment, he no longer cared. He was still in love with his wife.