You Can't Hide (26 page)

Someone had been watching her for… months. Her stomach heaved and she drew a breath to steady herself. “So why are my clothes in the trunk?”

“Jack’s search was very thorough,” Reagan said. “Some of your jackets had microphones sewn into the lining.”

Numb, she could only stare, not believing she’d heard him correctly. But she had. Her lungs jerked and she realized she’d forgotten to breathe. “Are you saying somebody could spy on me wherever I was?”

“Not necessarily,” he murmured. “It would depend on how far away you were from their receiver.”

Tess looked up at the ceiling. Too many thoughts raced through her head for any one to make sense. Cameras. Microphones. Receivers. And four people dead. The ceiling revolved in a big circle and she closed her eyes, willing the room to stand still.
You will not throw up. You will
stay calm.
“So all of my clothes have to be checked.”

“I’m afraid so.”

Kristen squeezed her hand. “Aidan called me as soon as Jack gave him the news. We put your clothes and your suitcase in your car. Jack’s sending a tow truck. They’l check the car and your clothes. I sent Becca to Wal-Mart for some things to tide you over until your clothes are processed.”

Gratitude squeezed her heart. “That’s nice of her. But who is this Becca?”

“My mother,” Reagan answered. He was watching her, gauging her response. His jaw was tight, his eyes gone hard. Almost as if he disapproved. “She’s excited to help, so pretend like you’re happy with whatever she brings back.”

Tess frowned at him. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Kristen pushed away from the table. “I think I’l get your soup now, Tess,” she said quickly.

“Do you want a bowl or a cup?”

97

Karen Rose

[Suspense 5]

You Can't Hide

“A bowl, I think,” she answered, not taking her eyes from Reagan’s face, her temper simmering. “Tell me, Detective, why would I pretend to appreciate your mother’s lovely gesture?”

Reagan didn’t blink. “I don’t doubt you appreciate the gesture. It’s just that it’s no secret that your tastes run a little more expensive than Wal-Mart, Doctor. That’s all.”

Her eyes widened. “You think I’m a snob.” He said nothing, just sat there looking at her, his blue eyes hard. Clutching the front of the robe, she turned in her chair to where Kristen stood at the stove, ladling soup into a bowl. “He thinks I’m a snob.” For some reason, after all the terror and upheaval she’d been through today, this one truth seemed to hurt. To her embarrassment, hot tears suddenly burned her eyes and she dropped her gaze to the bowl Kristen slid in front of her. Kristen’s hand was soothing on her back. “The soup’s from a can, but it’s better than what I understand you’ve eaten today, which is nothing. So eat.” Then Kristen surprised her by reaching across the table and smacking the top of Reagan’s head. “And she’s not a snob. Got it?”

He rubbed his head. “Shit, Kristen. That hurt.”

“It was meant to. Now I’m going home. Abe’s on duty tonight and Rachel’s sitting with Kara. It’s Kara’s bedtime and Rachel has school tomorrow. Tess, eat the soup, then go put on the sweats I laid on Aidan’s bed. Becca should be by with some jeans in a half hour or so.” She paused at the door, looking back with a worried frown. “Aidan, is Rachel all right?”

From beneath her lashes, Tess watched Reagan flinch, the movement minute. “Why wouldn’t she be?” he asked.

Kristen moved her shoulders. “She seemed preoccupied. She said nothing was wrong, but I know something’s bothering her.”

“I’l talk to her,” he said tightly and got up to lock the door behind her. But he didn’t turn around when Kristen had gone. In the quiet of his kitchen his emotion seemed to swell. He was angry. He hadn’t been this way since that first night, at the scene of Cynthia’s… suicide. Tess looked down at her soup.
When he thought I was a murderer.
At least he didn’t think that any longer. Now he thought she was an arrogant snob.

What he thought about her shouldn’t matter at all. But it did, and she was too damned tired to try to pretend otherwise. She leaned over the soup. Her hand trembled and she realized it had been more than a day since she’d eaten a bite. The last food she’d consumed was soup at Robin’s Blue Lemon. Tess was truly growing to hate soup.

The sound of his sharp breath made her lift her eyes. Reagan stood staring, his eyes fixed below her chin. Slowly his gaze rose and her soup was forgotten. It wasn’t just anger that flashed in his eyes. It was lust, too, pure and unadulterated. Her pulse pounded in her ears as he stood there, a muscle in his tight jaw twitching. Abruptly he turned his back and when he spoke, his voice was hoarse, his breath labored. “I’l be in the garage. When you’re finished eating and dressed, we’l meet Jack at your office. He’l want to sweep all the areas, including the vault. Dolly, come.”

Tess blinked at his back as he disappeared through another door, the dog obediently at his heels. The pulse pounding in her head slowed and she looked down, an instant blush heating her cheeks. Leaning over the bowl of soup had parted the robe far past anyone’s idea of decency. Not only did he think her a snob, now he thought her a cheap tease as well. He’d seen more of her breasts than she’d shown anyone since Phillip, damn him to hell. Except for whoever had been spying on her in her own home. They’d seen quite an eyeful. For months. Damn them to hell, too.

But she wouldn’t think about that now. Kristen was right, she needed to eat, so doggedly she did so.

Cameras.
She shuddered.
In my home
. Visions of herself on Internet porn sites made the soup she’d eaten threaten to make an encore appearance.

98

Karen Rose

[Suspense 5]

You Can't Hide

Still, that wasn’t as bad as cameras in her office. Microphones in the lining of her jackets. The privacy of each one of her patients had been mercilessly violated, personal information used to abuse them.

She pushed the bowl away. The sooner she knew the ful range of the truth, the better, she thought, and went off in search of Kristen’s sweats, hoping they were bigger than the robe.
Tuesday, March 14, 6:55 P.M.

Beside him, Dol y sat up and growled softly. A half second later Tess appeared in the door from the kitchen. “Can I come in?”

Aidan looked up from his motorcycle with a jerk, relieved that she wore actual clothes. They were Kristen’s and they were still way too small, but thankful y the vital parts of her anatomy were covered. He wasn’t sure he could survive another eyeful of her breasts. Though they’d been as beautiful as he’d imagined them. Smooth and ful and firm. It had taken every ounce of strength he possessed to turn away, to keep his hands from slipping inside the robe and finding out exactly how they felt.

Whol y aroused and utterly frustrated, he hung up the wrench he’d been using to remove a rusty bolt from the bike’s chassis. “Sure. Suit yourself, but watch where you touch. It’s dirty in here.”

From ten feet away she studied his bike. “New project?”

He took an appraising look at the bike he’d bought the week before. Anything to keep from looking at her. “Maybe. Depends on what I find once I get inside her.” He winced at his poor choice of words. He’d just have to wince because as much as he wanted her, he wasn’t going to have her.

Her face had grown cold when she’d realized he wasn’t taking her to a hotel. But she hadn’t argued with him, just silently marched into his house and back to his bathroom like she was the queen. It stung, he had to admit. He’d thought she’d appreciate not facing a sterile hotel. He’d been wrong. And still, seeing her in Kristen’s robe, he wanted her. So he’d reminded himself once again that she was Michigan Avenue and he was neighborhood Wal-Mart. He’d expected her to be a little angry. But not hurt. He hadn’t meant to hurt her. Her back was to him now, as she stood studying the series of pictures he’d taken of the Camaro in its various stages of restoration. “You fix things.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Cars, bikes.” She turned to face him, nodded at the bike. “My brother has one like this. Made for speed.”

He thought about what Carter had said. That she didn’t speak to her family. “Which one?

Dino, Tino, Gino, or Vito?”

A forced smile curved her lips. “Vito. He’s the family bad boy. My mother always worried about him, racing around town on two wheels like a bat out of hell.”

“My mother would worry, too. If she knew.”

“I see. Keeping secrets from mama? Shame on you, Detective.”

Aidan lifted a brow. “You planning to tell on me?”

“Not me. I can keep a secret.” The smile disappeared. “Too bad that by tomorrow nobody else will think so.”

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he said nothing as he grabbed a rag and wiped his greasy hands.

“Why did you think I’d hurt your mother’s feelings?”

Aidan sighed. “I didn’t. Not on purpose anyway. Look, you live a different lifestyle. Shop at exclusive boutiques. You drive a Mercedes, for God’s sake.”
While my Camaro’s roof is held
together with duct tape.
“Your apartment is worth five houses like this.” He spread his arms wide.

“My mother knows nothing about fashion and expensive boutiques. But she has a good heart and I don’t want to see her hurt.”

“Are we talking about your mother, Detective? Or you?”

99

Karen Rose

[Suspense 5]

You Can't Hide

He tossed the rag in the trash, annoyed that she’d pegged him so wel . “You sure you don’t want me on the couch for this?” She winced at the tone he hadn’t meant to be nearly so caustic.

“I’m sorry. That was uncal ed for. Are you ready to go?”

“I thought we were waiting for your mother to bring me some clothes.”

He scowled. “Fine. You can wait in the kitchen. I’ve got some things to do out here.”

“In a minute.” She crossed the garage, picking her way across the parts he’d already removed from the bike, stopping when it was just the bike between them. She was close enough to touch now, close enough that he could smell the sweet scent of her skin over the oily odor of his engines. Close enough that he could see her pulse beating hard at the hol ow of her throat.

“I want us to be clear on a few things, Detective. I am not a snob, nor am I in the habit of offending people who try to help me. When I was growing up, I dreamed of clothes from WalMart. My mother worked two jobs to keep five kids in secondhand clothes. Anything new, I made myself. I know the value of a dol ar.” She paused, her jaw taut. “My Mercedes was an inheritance. So was my apartment. I like to drive it. I like to live there. I have a healthy practice and I make a good living.” She gritted her teeth. “I did anyway.”

“Tess-”

“I’m not finished yet. I won’t apologize to you or to anyone else for the way I live. But I’l be damned before I let you use those things to make me into something I’m not.”

He felt compelled to defend himself. “You didn’t want to come here.”

She rol ed her eyes. “Of course I didn’t. I was a filthy mess with another person’s
blood
and
brains
in my
hair
. You may deal with that every day, Detective, but I sure as hell don’t. I couldn’t take a shower in my own apartment because some motherfucking murdering peeping Tom is taking pictures of me
night
and
day
. I couldn’t even tell you why I wanted a hotel because I was afraid that same motherfucker had bugged my car. All I wanted was a place where I could get clean and not worry about messing up somebody else’s bathroom.” She shuddered out the breath she’d been holding, regret edging the temper aside. “I’m sorry I was cross before. You offered me the hospitality of your home and I was rude.”

Given what she’d been through that day, her actions were completely understandable and once again, he’d been a fool.

“I’m sorry. Once again I was wrong about you. I thought you were…” He shrugged, uncomfortable. “Looking down your nose at me.”

“Wel , I wasn’t,” she said soberly. “I wouldn’t.”

The fury and confusion and hurt were gone, and in the quiet that fol owed the awareness grew stronger. “Thank you.”

“I liked your bathroom, by the way.” Her lips curved up. “The rubber ducky wallpaper is a nice touch.”

He felt his cheeks heat. “It came with the house. I babysit my nieces and nephews sometimes. They like it, so I kept it.”

“That’s sweet.” Her smile dimmed. “You really are. I wouldn’t have thought it a few days ago.”

His chest tightened. “A few days ago I didn’t give you much reason to.”

“You were doing your job.” Her chin lifted. “I understood that.”

She’d been honest with him, setting the record straight. He could do no less. “It was more than that. A few days ago I wanted to hate you.” She flinched and took a step back but he reached across the bike to grab her forearm and hold her where she stood. “
I’m
not finished yet.” He softened his hold until his hand loosely circled her wrist. “I wanted to hate you because you didn’t seem to care about anything or anyone. But I couldn’t look at you without wanting you, and I hated that even more.”

He watched the brash line of her scar move when she swallowed. “I see. Are you quite finished now?” Her tone was authoritative and once he would have mistaken her attitude for haughty disregard.

100

Karen Rose

[Suspense 5]

You Can't Hide

But he could feel the pulse at her wrist quicken and it gave him the courage to continue. “Not quite. It was easier to hate wanting you when I thought I could hate you for Green. Then I found out how many you had helped put away, some of them even worse than Green.”

“I do my job, Detective.”

“Then it was easier to hate wanting you when I thought you might be guilty. I got a little mileage out of believing you were cold and heartless. Until you walked in on Mr. Winslow yesterday afternoon, then I couldn’t even believe that anymore.”

“I’m sorry I’m not more cooperative,” she said stiffly.

Aidan smiled and brought her wrist to his lips as her eyes widened. “Your heart is beating fast,” he murmured. Her lips parted but no words emerged. Encouraged, he kissed the racing pulse point of her wrist then brought her hand flat against his chest. She pul ed back at first, then gave in, spreading her fingers wide over his heart.