Within Striking Distance (14 page)

Now that the shock was wearing off, her aches felt worse. So did her sense of uneasiness. It was true that the attack had happened quickly. The whole thing couldn’t have lasted more than a minute. Yet now every vivid, terrifying detail replayed in her mind, as if in slow motion. She cradled her hand on her lap and anchored herself by keeping her focus on Jake. He retrieved a clean towel from his gym bag and wrapped it gently around her glass sliver to immobilize it. He knew what he was doing. They were both safe. That’s what mattered. Still, Becky had the niggling feeling that she was missing something important.

J
AKE MOVED
into the corridor, too wired to remain still. He’d done his best to minimize the incident for Becky’s sake, but he was worried. The man with the knife hadn’t been large enough or skilled enough to pose much difficulty for Jake, but he’d been desperate, and desperate people were always the most dangerous. They didn’t behave rationally. So it was with some relief that Jake saw Lieutenant Denning had arrived and was speaking with one of the uniformed policemen who had been the first on the scene. Positioning himself near the remains of the office door so that he could keep an eye on Becky, Jake waved Len over.

“Thanks for coming out,” Jake said.

Len suppressed a yawn. He looked like an unmade bed, but then, that’s probably where he’d been when he’d received Jake’s call. “No problem. You sounded in rough shape.”

“I’m fine. It could have been a lot worse. Did you see the blade?”

“One of the uniforms collected it. You told him no one else had touched it, is that right?”

“Yeah. You should get a few good prints.”

“So, what happened?”

Jake glanced at Becky to check the paramedic’s progress and saw that her wound was already being bandaged. They had deemed it too minor to warrant moving her to a hospital, which agreed with what she’d told Jake, but he’d wanted to be sure. Any wound not properly tended could get infected and scar. That could prove a problem in Becky’s line of work.

Who was he kidding? It wasn’t her livelihood that concerned him, it was her life. Just the thought of her having been exposed to this level of danger was making him crazy.

“Buddy, are you still with me?”

Jake returned his attention to Len and gave him a detailed summary of the attack.

“What’s your take on this?” Len asked when Jake had finished. “Burglary gone wrong?”

Jake shook his head. “If I’d thought that’s all it was, I wouldn’t have phoned you. I would have let the uniforms handle it.”

Len twisted to look at the door beside Jake’s office. “I don’t know, Jake. The drugs that would be in that dentist’s office and the electronic equipment in yours would look pretty attractive to a thief.”

“I’ve gone through my office. Nothing’s missing.”

“You interrupted him.”

“Obviously. I think he was after information.”

“Any idea what?”

Jake looked at Becky again. The paramedic had finished his work. Becky turned her wrist from one side to the other as if testing the movement. The bandage had been wrapped across her palm and around her hand, but it didn’t appear to be causing her any discomfort.

“Am I boring you? Maybe you’d prefer to go give your friend a kiss and make it better.”

Jake jerked his gaze back to Len. “That’s Becky Peters. Her adoptive father is Floyd Peters.”

“Peters? Right, the punk with the assault record you asked me about. Do you think he did this?”

“No. He lives in Australia, and I’ve seen pictures of him. It definitely wasn’t him. But I’d bet money that this is connected with the Gina Grosso case. None of my other open cases would inspire someone to take a risk like this.”

“Maybe Peters hired him.”

“That’s a possibility. But I don’t believe Peters would have wanted Becky to get hurt.”

“That doesn’t rule him out. From what you told me, she was collateral damage.”

Jake saw that the paramedic was gathering his supplies and repacking his case. Becky had already stood and was moving toward the door. He held out his free arm as she approached. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Fine.”

“And your hand?”

“The gash is clean and taped closed. It wasn’t that deep. Are you okay?”

He nodded as he studied her face. Now that the surge of adrenaline from the attack had worn off, she was beginning to show signs of exhaustion. He draped his arm around her shoulders and drew her to his side before he introduced her to Len. “Could you let me know if you come up with anything on those prints?” he asked.

“Sure thing.” Len suppressed another yawn. “It still could be you’re making too much of this. The perp might have been high and mistook your office for the dentist’s next door.”

Becky stiffened. “The dentist,” she said. “That man.”

Jake looked at her. “What is it?”

“Now I remember. He smelled like cigarettes. I saw him before.”

“Where?”

“Here. The day before I left for Italy. He was waiting outside your office but he left as soon as I spoke to him. I’d thought he was waiting for the dentist and had changed his mind.”

Jake firmed his hold on Becky and exchanged a look with Len. His friend nodded, obviously grasping the significance of what Becky had said. The break-in hadn’t been random. Whoever had done it had known exactly which office he’d wanted to target.

And he’d probably done it before, Jake thought. The man could have been following his progress for weeks. If Floyd Peters was behind it, Jake had badly underestimated him. How far would Peters and his accomplice go to keep Becky’s origins a secret?

As it turned out, Jake got his answer sooner than he’d expected. The radios of both the police officer down the hall and the paramedic in the office crackled to life within seconds of each other. Jake couldn’t make out what was said, but whatever it was sent both of them racing for the staircase. Moments later, Len’s cell phone trilled.

“What’s going on?” Jake demanded.

Len said a few words into his phone and flipped it shut. “Four-alarm fire in the hospital zone.”

“My God,” Becky said. “All those people…”

“The fire hasn’t reached the hospital itself yet,” Len said. “It’s centered in an analytical laboratory.”

J
AKE PUT THE PHONE
on his desk and rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the kink in the back of his neck. His body was screaming for rest, but apart from the two hours he’d snatched at his apartment after he’d driven Becky home early this morning, it had been more than a day since he’d slept. The way things were shaping up, it might be another day before he did again.

According to what the fire department had just told him, the preliminary investigation of the blaze in the laboratory confirmed it had been deliberately set. All of the analyses that had been in progress had been destroyed, including the DNA samples that Nicole had sent there the previous week. It hadn’t been the fire alone that had ruined them. The arsonist had taken the time to trash the place before he’d poured gasoline over everything.

The arson occurring so soon after the break-in here couldn’t have been a coincidence. The receipt for the DNA test, which had the lab’s address printed on it, was missing from Becky’s file. Someone wanted to keep the truth from coming out.

Yet destroying the test samples was only a temporary solution. It would be easy to arrange for a second test.

Jake leaned back in his chair, his gaze going to the sheet of plywood that was serving as a temporary door. Was Peters really behind what had happened here and at the lab?
Destroying the lab had involved a level of violence far beyond break-and-enter and would carry a heavier penalty. Peters had been a hothead when he’d been a kid, but he’d been clean since he’d married Lizzie. None of his early brushes with the law had involved anything premeditated. Still, it might be possible he’d know how to contact the kind of lowlife who wouldn’t have hesitated to do both crimes.

It all depended on how desperate Peters was. He had good reason to be concerned about possible abduction charges, since the FBI had reopened the Gina Grosso kidnapping case. Yet Jake had been hired to find Gina, not to bring her abductors to justice. The Grossos weren’t interested in vengeance. They simply wanted to be reunited with their lost child. When they’d approached him about taking the case, they had already had their fill of legal proceedings because they’d been dealing with the murder of their friend…

The hair at the back of Jake’s neck stood up. He sucked in his breath. The murder of Alan Cargill last December had appeared to be a crime of opportunity rather than premeditation. At first it had seemed like a mugging, but then suspicions had arisen that Alan’s death had been tied to an old scandal about cheating in NASCAR. So far, no proof of any link to the cheating scandal had been found.

Were the police looking in the wrong direction? The allegations about Gina being alive had surfaced around the same time that Alan had been killed. Had the timing of that been merely coincidence?

Alan Cargill had been stabbed to death.

The man who had been spying on Jake had wielded a knife.

Was that a coincidence, too?

Maybe the fire in the lab hadn’t been intended as a solution. It could have been meant as a warning.

Jake rocked forward to yank open the top drawer of his
desk. He grabbed his Rolodex and flipped through the cards until he found Lucas Haines’s number.

The New York detective answered on the second ring. “Haines.”

“Lucas, it’s Jake McMasters.”

“Hey, Jake. What can I do for you?”

“I’m calling about the Alan Cargill case. Are you any closer to an arrest yet?”

“Unfortunately, no. Seems I get a lead only to find something to rule it out.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

“I take it there’s a reason you’re asking.”

“There have been some developments here in Charlotte I believe you should know about.”

“I thought you were looking into the Grosso kidnapping.”

“I am. The two crimes might be related.”

“What makes you think that?”

Jake gave Lucas a rundown of his progress on the Grosso case as well as a summary of the events of the previous night. Only then did he detail his suspicions. He finished by giving Lucas Len’s phone number. “Lieutenant Denning is having the knife tested for prints,” Jake said. “He told me he’ll know later today whether or not he gets a hit on them. I’ll ask him to call you.”

“Good. Thanks.” Lucas was silent for a moment. “Wait a minute.” There was the sound of papers being shuffled in the background. “Gina starts with a
G.
”

“Right. Why?”

“Cargill made an entry in his electronic organizer the night he died. ‘Ask D. about G.’”

Jake’s hand tightened around the phone. “The
G
could stand for Gina.”

“There was no reason for me to consider it before. Dean Grosso had told me that during their last conversation, Cargill
had asked him about GranolaPlus. It’s a cereal company that was interested in sponsoring Kent. I’d concluded that
D
referred to Dean and
G
meant GranolaPlus. That explained the BlackBerry entry on your electronic organizer.”

“Maybe not.”

“Maybe not,” Lucas repeated. “Jake, I appreciate your cooperation. If you find anything else that might help, call me.”

“Count on it.”

“And, Jake?”

“Yeah?”

“Until we sort this out, you might want to exercise some extra caution.”

Jake had to flex his fingers a few times after he put down the phone. He’d been holding it so tightly his hand had cramped. Caution? Becky had said he was too cautious, but when it came to her, he’d been worrying about the wrong things. He snatched the receiver once more and dialed Len’s number.

“U
M
, B
ECKY
?” Tara Dalton set two glasses on the counter of Becky’s tiny kitchen. “Are you sure you should be having any of this in your condition?”

Becky made a face at her friend and jabbed the button on the blender. Her friends had meant well when they’d come over to check on her, but Becky needed company and the distraction of a girls’ night more than she needed sympathy. “I’m fine,” she said over the noise. “I didn’t take any meds except an aspirin and that was early this morning. Nicole, tell her.”

Nicole squeezed past her to position a lime on the cutting board. “It’s okay, Tara. Becky’s right. Alcohol in moderation won’t hurt.”

“It’s for medicinal purposes anyway,” Becky said. She shut off the blender. “I tried napping but I’ve been jumpy all day. I could use some loosening up.”

“You’re still feeling the aftereffects of that attack,” Nicole said.

“I don’t know why. Jake’s the one who fought the guy off.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’ll take a while for the memory to fade.” Nicole sliced the lime in half. “It’s perfectly normal so don’t worry.”

“That’s a low-cal lime, right, Nicole?”

She laughed. “Absolutely. And as long as we stand up while we drink, there are no calories in the margaritas.”

“Well, I think you’re holding up well, considering,” Tara said. “How’s your wrist?”

“I can barely feel it.” Becky held up her bandaged hand and extended the fingers of her other hand toward it as if she were modeling a pair of gloves. “I don’t have another job until Thursday. Lucky for me, it’s modeling jeans so the bruises on my knees won’t show. I should be able to get rid of this gauze by then.”

“As long as the wound’s healing all right and you’re sensible,” Nicole said.

“I wouldn’t have been hurt at all if I’d stayed out of Jake’s way. He was amazing.”

“Amazing?”

“Awesome. He’s very strong, you know.”

“No, I didn’t realize that. He looks so harmless.”

“Mmm, I wouldn’t describe him like that. Under those loose shirts he wears he’s all muscle. He’s got great body control, too.”

Tara reached up to take a third glass from the cupboard and set it beside the blender. “So is he Harrison Ford or George Clooney?”

Nicole raised her eyebrows. “What’s this?”

“Becky said that’s who Jake reminded her of.”

“She did? That’s interesting, but I can’t say I noticed any resemblance.”

“It was more that he reminded her of the characters they played,” Tara explained.

“You should have seen how worried she looked when she thought something might have happened to him,” Nicole said.

“When was that?” Tara demanded.

“Last week, when I met her at the airport.”

“Hmm, that
is
interesting. I wonder what it means.”

Becky propped her hands on her hips. “Ladies, I’m right here. Stop talking about me as if I’m not.”

“Then talk to us,” Tara said. “Tell us what’s going on with you and Jake.”

“I suppose we’re seeing each other.”

“You suppose? What does that mean?”

“We had a great time together in Chicago over the weekend. He’s a really nice guy.”

“But?” Nicole prodded.

Becky felt her cheeks heat. She picked up a slice of lime and rubbed it around the rim of a glass, then dipped the glass in the bowl of salt. “It’s kind of complicated.”

“Why?”

“It’s the Gina thing. My feelings are probably confused.”

“What do you mean?”

Becky handed the glass to Tara and prepared another. “I like him a lot. I feel good when I’m around him because he’s smart, funny and incredibly sensitive. He’s self-confident, too, without being pushy about it.”

“He struck me as a responsible man,” Nicole said.

“Oh, he’s that, all right. From the moment I met him, I felt I could trust him. We had this…connection. I don’t know what else to call it.”

“I’m still not seeing a downside,” Tara said.

These were her best friends, Becky thought. They’d shared all the ups and downs of their lives with each other, and she
trusted them like the sisters she’d never had. Why was she hesitating to share her feelings for Jake?

Maybe because she still hadn’t figured them out. She fixed a glass for herself and poured the margaritas. “I’ve got a serious crush on him,” she admitted finally. “But it might be mixed up with the whole business of finding my family.”

Nicole sipped her drink. “You’ve got a point. Trying to find out who you are has to be stirring up some powerful emotions.”

“It is. This just isn’t the right time for me to be thinking about a man.”

“Is there ever a right time?” Tara asked. “Romance was the last thing on my mind when I met Adam.”

“When it’s right, it’s right,” Nicole said. “You and Adam Sanford were meant to be.”

Tara smiled. “That’s true, but my love life isn’t news anymore. We’re talking about Becky’s. Let’s cut to the chase. Is Jake a good kisser?”

Becky had been about to take a drink. She sputtered against the rim of her glass.

“Well?” Tara persisted.

“Yes. He’s wonderful. But it’s still confusing.”

Nicole put her hand on Becky’s arm. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re wise to take things slow. You do have a lot to deal with right now. Because of that fire we’ll need to do another DNA test, which is going to drag out the waiting for you again. Once we get the results, you’ll need to give yourself time to come to terms with whatever they prove.”

“They’re going to prove that I
am
Gina. Why else would someone want to sabotage them?”

“That’s a good question,” Nicole said. “Did you hear anything from the police?”

“The lieutenant handling the case gave me a follow-up
call this morning, but he didn’t tell me much. I expect that Jake’s busy checking out the other Gina claimants. There were forty-two of them, you know.”

“You’re kidding! That many?”

“Those are only the ones who have come forward,” Becky said. “Who knows how many are out there still hoping for their chance? Any of them could have a partner who was willing to sabotage Jake’s investigation.”

Tara grasped Becky’s shoulder. “You’d better be careful.”

“I will be. Anyway, this will all be over once that second test is done.”

“That’s true,” Tara said, squeezing lightly. “But whatever those test results show isn’t going to change who you are. I know Nicole told you to take things slow, but if your gut is telling you that Jake’s the one, he’ll still be the one no matter what your last name turns out to be.”

Becky looked from one friend to the other. One of the reasons she loved these women was because they were never afraid to tell each other the truth. In this case, they were both right. Unfortunately, that didn’t help sort out her feelings—they were more muddled than ever. She sighed, then lifted her glass and took a long swallow.

“What is it?” Nicole asked. “You look thoughtful.”

“I’m trying to decide which we need more, a group hug or another margarita.”

They laughed and somehow managed both.

B
ECKY HADN’T REALIZED
she’d fallen asleep until the knock on the door woke her. She pushed her hair off her face and squinted at the clock on her DVD player. It was only a few minutes past ten. Tara and Nicole had cut the evening short and had left her apartment less than twenty minutes ago, saying she needed her sleep. Evidently, they’d been right. She’d nodded off on the couch.