Operation Hero's Watch
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She looked at Rafe, as if doubtful he’d believe her. As if he’d read her thought, he said quietly, “And watching you?”
Her breath caught audibly. “Yes. How did you know?”
“Saw some sign under the trees out there.”
Jace’s jaw clenched as Cassie paled. “He’s been hiding in my trees?”
“Someone’s been in there. Enough to leave a sign. What can you tell me about him? It is a him?”
“Yes. I don’t know who, have no idea why, or even what he looks like, but...”
“Is that because he hasn’t gotten close enough, or because he’s masking himself somehow?” Rafe asked.
“Both,” she said. “I mean, he does stay back, but he wears hoodies with the hood up, or knit hats with a scarf wrapped around his neck and face like it was thirty below. Oh, and gloves. The thin, stretchy kind.”
“Interesting,” Rafe observed. “A bit overkill.”
“Maybe he’s not from here,” Jace said. “I grew up here, never thought forties were cold, but people in California would be dragging out ski wear.”
Rafe nodded. “Could be.”
Cassie looked at Jace. “You were in California?”
He nodded. “That’s what took me so long. I—”
He stopped abruptly. He had just noticed the photograph on the shelf behind her. A family photograph, taken on a sunny summer day on the beach at the lighthouse a few miles away. He remembered going with them that day, vividly. And he remembered this picture. Mrs. Grant had asked someone walking by to take it, and Jace had edged out of the way.
And where do you think you’re going, Jace? Get over here!
He remembered gaping at Cassie’s mother in disbelief. And then her father had come over and grabbed his arm to pull him into the shot. He stared at it now, saw the two loving parents, Cory next to his mother, Cassie next to her father, and...him. In between both adults, with both their arms around his shoulders. As if he were theirs. As if he, of the three kids, was the one who needed them most.
He found himself blinking rapidly. Because that had been nothing less than the truth.
* * *
That’s what took me so long.
Cassie felt a twinge of guilt at her earlier assumptions, that he wasn’t coming at all. She should have known. This was Jace, after all. Not her brother, who didn’t quite seem to understand what a promise was. Like his promise that this or that batch of trouble was the last one, when in fact he’d skated on the edge of trouble most of his life. Not her brother, who couldn’t even be bothered to return her phone calls.
Call Jace. He’ll come. He promised.
Cory had said it with a shrug, as if the world knew that Jace’s word was golden. And apparently, it still was. Because he’d simply come when she’d made that near-panicked phone call the night she’d seen that shadow lurking outside her bedroom window.
And then she noticed Jace was staring past her. The lighthouse photo? Was that what was making him look so...so...
Thankfully, Rafe brought them back to the matter at hand.
“The police didn’t think that was enough description?”
She grimaced as she refocused. “More that it could match any one of a dozen people on the street at any given time. Tourists come through here on their way to the national park, and a lot of them are bundled up, like Jace said.”
“But you’re sure he’s following you?” Rafe asked.
Maybe it really was all in her head. Why on earth would anyone fixate on her, after all? She wasn’t famous, she certainly wasn’t rich; the shop was barely getting by. And she wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous; she hadn’t broken up with anyone recently—hadn’t dated anyone in a sadly long time—nor had she had any angry encounters with anyone, male or female. No new people or angry customers at work, where she generally kept to her office in back of the florist shop except when she had to cover the counter or made deliveries to help out. No passing contacts with people while shopping or picking up her morning coffee. The answer to every question the police had asked was no, including if she had any idea why someone might be following her.
“I know it sounds crazy, there’s no reason for anyone—”
“Sometimes all it takes is an attractive woman alone,” Jace said. Cassidy’s head snapped around. She stared at him. “What?” he asked, looking utterly blank.
She reined in her pulse, laughing at herself for the silly jump it had taken. That’s all it takes, Jace saying you’re attractive? Didn’t you outgrow that long ago?
Not, she thought, that any woman’s pulse wouldn’t jump. He was still Jace, after all. Sexy cute, with those bright blue eyes and that kind of wild dark hair that always looked a bit windblown.
Do you even own a comb?
That’s what fingers are for.
She nearly blushed at the years-old memory. He’d answered her question with a glint in his eye she’d been too young at the time to understand, and it wasn’t until much later that she’d realized he hadn’t necessarily been talking about his own fingers. She’d finally gotten it the day she’d seen him outside the gym, with Kim Clark running her fingers through that thick hair. The rather predatory social leader, the kind who sniffed audibly at studious types like herself, had set her sights on Jace the day after he’d won his first judo competition.
To his credit, Jace hadn’t fallen for it.
She’s a user, Cassie. She never even glanced at me before. Besides, she doesn’t get me.
But she did. Where most people found his quirky way of seeing things puzzling, she found it fascinating. She always had.
She found him fascinating. She always had.
“Cassie?”
She realized she was still staring at him. “Sorry. Memory bomb went off.”
He looked startled, and then he was grinning. That devastating, flashing grin that didn’t just light up his face, but the whole room he was in.
“I can’t believe you remember that.”
I remember everything about you. But “It’s still the best description ever” was all she said. Then she shifted her gaze—reluctantly—to Rafe. He was watching them rather assessingly.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude,” she said quickly.
“You have history,” he said simply.
Oh, yes. And I just got smacked with the fact that for me, it’s not history at all.
Chapter 3
“How long has this been going on?” Rafe asked her.
Jace felt oddly relieved that he was bringing the conversation back to the matter at hand. He wasn’t sure why—he’d known there would be memories involved, simply because Rafe had been right, they had history.
“Almost three weeks,” Cassie answered, then quickly amended, “That I’m aware of. It could be longer. I might not have noticed right away.”
“Where?” Rafe asked. “Work, home?”
“Both. At least, I think it’s the same guy. I haven’t really seen him here, only his shadow. At night.”
Jace frowned. “His shadow?”
“He—assuming it was him—was outside my bedroom window.”
Jace swore under his breath.
“That’s...when I called you. I got scared that night.”
“I would think so.”
“Where did you first notice the guy?” Rafe asked.
“Outside the shop. He was just hanging around. And he looked...”
“Sketchy? Edgy?” Jace asked.
“More...watchful. Like he was waiting for something. But he wasn’t looking at the street or sidewalk, he was looking at the shop.”
“And what did you think he was there for?” Rafe asked.
“No idea,” she said.
“But what did you think?” he asked again, gently.
Cassie looked puzzled. “Usual stuff, I guess. He was waiting for someone—we had a couple of customers inside. Or he wanted to come in and hadn’t worked up to it yet.” She smiled. “Some guys have an amazingly hard time deciding to buy flowers for someone.”
“I buy them for my mom,” Jace protested.
Cassie blinked. Looked as if something had clicked in her mind, but she only said, “That wasn’t aimed at you.”
“Oh. Sorry.” He grinned rather crookedly. “Must have been from being around you guys growing up. I never thought flowers were scary.”
“I know,” she said, and this time her voice was soft, her smile fond. “I remember you used to ask my mother what they all were called. And the lilies were your favorite.”
Now he was embarrassed. “Yeah,” he said. “I liked how they looked so delicate, but if you didn’t take care they’d mark you forever with that orange stuff.”
“Attack of the Tiger Lilies.”
He had to laugh as she quoted the old title he’d made up as a kid for a horror film starring the tiger lilies simply because he liked the name.
And yet again Rafe had to steer them back to the matter at hand.
“What else did you think or wonder about him that first day?” When she hesitated, Rafe leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Sometimes your brain processes things faster than your conscious mind is aware of. So you have a thought that seems out of the blue, or baseless, when in fact there was an entire thought process that brought you to it.”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Cassidy said.
“He means—I think,” Jace added with a glance at Rafe, “like when you see a bluebird. You think you instantly know it’s a bluebird, but really it’s a process. First you see that something’s there, then recognize that it’s a bird, then that it’s blue, and then that it’s not a blue jay, and voilà, you arrive at bluebird. But you’re not conscious of all those steps.”
She was smiling by the time he was halfway through. And Rafe, thankfully, was nodding, so he’d been right.
“Okay, I get it. But—” she gave Rafe a doubtful glance “—I’m not sure how it applies here.”
“When he kept hanging around, did your thoughts about what he might be up to get worse?”
“Oh. Yes,” she said with a small laugh. “I started wondering if he was working up the nerve to steal something, or rob us.” As if she’d heard her own words, her eyes widened. “Do you think that’s what it was? That he was...what, casing our shop? That would be pointless—we really don’t have much cash on hand. Most people use credit or debit cards.”
“Assuming the shop’s cash is what he was after,” Rafe said.
“But what else?”
“Did he make you nervous?” Jace asked. “In a...personal way?”
“You mean did I feel like it was me specifically he was watching? Not then. Not until I started feeling watched around here, at home.”
“What made you think it was the same man?”
Cassie let out an audible breath. “That’s what the police asked. And since I’ve never really seen him when he’s been here, I still don’t have an answer other than odds.”
Jace knew she meant the odds that in a small town like this there would be two men hanging around the two places she frequented most. He agreed, but he wasn’t sure the clearly experienced and likely more suspicious Rafe would. But the man was simply nodding, looking thoughtful.
“Too coincidental,” Jace said.
“Yes.” Cassie sounded relieved that he understood.
“I need to ask you some questions,” Rafe said. “And some of them might seem not pertinent, maybe even impertinent.”
Cassie drew back slightly, looking at the man. “Not a word I’d dare to apply to you.”
Rafe smiled, just slightly, and Jace had the thought that it wasn’t exactly a pleased smile. And Cutter shifted suddenly, from his polite, alert posture to leaning slightly against Rafe’s knee. The man’s hand went to the dog’s head, to scratch behind his right ear, and it had the feel of an automatic gesture, done so often it didn’t require thought any longer.
It was almost like the dog had also sensed that smile hadn’t been a happy one and had moved to comfort. He remembered how his childhood dog, Max, had always seemed to know when he was sad or upset and had come to comfort him.
And remember what that cost him.
He shoved away the memory as Rafe spoke again.
“I’m sure you’ve already thought of the obvious,” Rafe said, “but I have to ask anyway. And if I ask what seems like the same thing again but in a different way, don’t feel hounded. Sometimes just a different way of phrasing can trigger different thoughts and ideas.”
Jace listened as the man asked a string of questions. Some he could have answered himself, and he nodded when she did so exactly as he would have expected. Cassie would never get into an argument at work—she was the peacemaker, probably learned from years of trying to broker peace between her brother and their parents. She had a knack for seeing things from another point of view and acknowledging it without ever conceding her own. And she had worked in the flower shop since she was a teenager, so she knew her stuff. Not to mention, knowing her, she worked harder than anybody else.
Unhappy customers? No one that stayed unhappy.
You don’t have to agree. Sometimes all people need to know is that you hear them, understand where they’re coming from. That was Cassie’s philosophy, and always had been. Nobody could stay mad at her for long.
Traffic accidents? No, Cassie was very careful.
Upset neighbors? He nearly laughed at that one. Unless she had very much changed, Cassidy Grant was who you came to if you needed a favor—your dog walked, your cat fed, your kid watched at the last minute; if she could, she’d do it.
True, he hadn’t had contact with her in years, but that was who Cassie was at her very core, and he doubted she had changed much.
Boyfriend?
Jace went still. He should have realized that one was coming. Felt silly when he realized he was holding his breath, waiting for her to answer.
“No.”
No explanation, just a flat no. He could breathe again. And he’d analyze what the hell that meant later.
“Exes?” Rafe asked.
She glanced at Jace. A quick flick of a look, but he was certain he’d seen it.
“Not...recently.”
“How long ago?”
She answered neutrally, “Nearly two years.”
Two years? How had a woman like Cassie gone two years without having guys beating down her door?
“Long time,” he said, his voice coming out a bit gruff. She only shrugged.
“How were the partings?” Rafe asked. Belatedly, Jace realized this could be exactly what they were here about.
“Agreed upon, if not amicable,” she said, her voice still betraying no emotion at all. Odd, he thought, she’d always had trouble hiding her emotions before. He found he wasn’t particularly happy that she’d learned.
“How far from amicable?” Rafe continued pressing.
“Not very. And what wasn’t was on my part.”
There it was, finally, a trace of...something. Pain? Hurt? He felt suddenly guilt that he was glad of it, but he couldn’t deny this cool demeanor was bothering him. Cassie had always been quiet, but never cool. Even back then he’d often suspected she was quiet because inside she was very much not cool.
And sometimes those hazel eyes had been dark with emotion, absolutely stormy. Cory had asked him once how he always seemed to know when she was in a mood. “It’s right there in her eyes,” he’d answered, surprised that it wasn’t obvious to everyone.
“I’ll need names,” Rafe said. At her edgy look he added easily, “Process of elimination.”
“Oh.”
“Who was the most recent?”
“Steve Larsen. He’s a teacher at the middle school.”
“How’d it end?”
“He went back to his ex-wife.” She gave a half shrug. “I understood. They have two young children. They remarried, and I’m happy for him.”
“Who was before that?”
“Tim Sparks.”
Jace gaped at her. “You dated the jock?”
Cassie shifted her gaze to his face. “Says the judo champion of the entire school district?”
“Yeah, but Tim, he was...”
“Yes, he was. But he’s grown up a lot since he used to strut around campus. Having your girlfriend die in a car accident will do that to you.”
He blinked. An image of the girl, the classic cheerleader type who had been the perfect match for the football captain, formed in his head. They’d been the cliché couple, each a star with their own posse, and together the superstars of their little world. “Carly’s...dead?”
She nodded. “Right after their graduation. You’d know that if you ever bothered to keep in touch.”
“Been a little busy,” he said, stung.
“Hmm.”
He lapsed into silence as Rafe continued to ask her questions. He only half listened, because he was trying to picture quiet, clever Cassidy with the outgoing, unserious Tim. But maybe the guy had found her quiet calm soothing after what had happened. When she said he’d gone on to become a successful attorney, he thought maybe that was a clue.
Rafe stopped to make some notes, and Jace blurted out, “Was he driving?”
As usual, Cassie had no trouble following, even though it had been a few minutes since she’d told him.
“No. But it was his car.”
“So he felt responsible.”
She was looking at him rather intently. “No. That would be something you would do.”
He blinked. Her tone had been so neutral he couldn’t tell if it had been compliment or accusation. Knowing Cassie, probably both.
Cutter was suddenly on his feet. He was looking from Cassie to him, then back, his expression oddly puzzled.
Don’t try to figure her out, dog. She goes way too deep.
The animal walked over to her, rested his chin on her knee. She looked bemused but pleased and put a hand on the dark head. He watched her face as she looked down at the dog. Saw the slow smile dawn, wondered if she was feeling what he had felt the first time he had stroked Cutter’s head in the same way. Wondered what it was about the animal, what knack he had.
Wondered when Cassidy Grant had gone from quietly cute to utterly beautiful. And the thought of her in genuine danger made his stomach knot.
“I have a question,” he said abruptly. “About the elephant not in the room.”
Her head came up.
“Where the hell is your brother?”
Chapter 4
Cassidy managed not to recoil at the anger in Jace’s tone, but it was a close thing. “Hell if I know,” she retorted.
Jace looked surprised. That she’d echoed his curse? Or that it was about her brother, whom, for all her teasing, she had adored?
A lot has changed since you were here.
It wasn’t that she didn’t still love Cory, but... And then, belatedly, something else occurred to her. “Don’t you know where he is?”
Jace made a face that matched her sour tone. “I haven’t talked to him in...” He trailed off, then finished with a rueful expression after he apparently figured out just how long it had been. “Four years.”
She frowned. “But you two were best friends.”
“Yeah. Funny how that ended once he knew I couldn’t lend him money anymore.”
He looked as if he regretted saying it, so she hastened to say, “I get it. I didn’t hear much from him after the bank of Cassidy closed up, either.”
He frowned. “Are you...in financial trouble? With the shop, and I thought your folks had a little life insurance—”
“Not in trouble, just...tight. The shop’s breaking even, but no more. I cut Cory off after he blew through his half of the insurance money in a few months. It wasn’t that much, only fifty thousand, but...” She waited for the look, the one some people gave her, accusatory. How could she cut off her own brother if he needed help?
Instead he just said softly, “Good for you.” She blinked, surprised. “I know what he likely blew it on,” he explained.
She felt a jab of relief that she wouldn’t have to explain. “Is that why you stopped loaning him money, too?”
“No. I—” He cut himself off, gave a sharp shake of his head. “Never mind. Irrelevant.”
She supposed it wasn’t relevant, but she couldn’t help wondering what had made him say it like that. With such an edge.
“Are we sure of that?”
The inquiry sounded mild compared to Jace’s edge, but Cassidy doubted anything coming from the man who had been sitting so silently yet still was such a presence in the room should be taken lightly.
“What do you mean, Mr. Crawford?”
“Rafe, please. I already feel old enough just getting up in the morning.”
He said it so wryly she couldn’t help but smile. “All right, then, Rafe,” she said. “Are you saying my brother might be connected to this?”
It seemed an impossibility to her, but she kept her tone neutral. She’d learned a lot about self-control when it came to her brother.
“That depends,” the man said, shifting his steady gaze to Jace, “on what exactly he was spending that money on.”
“Not drugs,” Jace said, with a quick glance at Cassidy. “He was never into that, or alcohol. But he was...always looking for the easy way. The big thing that was going to make him really rich.”
“There are many people who would consider having fifty grand in the bank pretty rich,” Rafe said.
Cassidy saw Jace’s head snap around as he stared at the other man rather too pointedly to just be a response to him speaking. “Yes,” he said. “There are.”
There had been something in those words, too, something harsh and...personal? Whatever it was, she didn’t like it. Jace had had enough of that in his life, with his strict, overbearing father. The man had made her feel impossibly inadequate the few times she’d been around him, and Cory had told her tales that had made her shudder, so she could only imagine how he’d made Jace feel.
“I don’t think my brother could be involved in this. I haven’t spoken to him in several weeks, and I haven’t seen him in four months,” she said now. She glanced at Jace. “I did try to call him a few times before I called you. He never called back.”
“Sounds par for the course for him.”
She sighed. “It didn’t used to be.”
“A lot of things didn’t used to be.”
Again that edge had crept into his voice. And this time he was facing her, and she saw him fight it down.
“He’s the one who left me your number and told me...to call you if I couldn’t reach him and needed help. Because you—”
She cut herself off, realizing they were into territory she wasn’t sure she wanted to discuss in front of a complete stranger, even one who was here to help.
“Made him a promise,” Jace finished softly.
“Yes.”
“And that promise,” the man she’d been worried about talking in front of said, “is why Foxworth is involved. Helping good people keep honest promises is high on the list of things we do.”
It seemed impossible to her that such a thing existed, yet here they were, this intimidating man who looked as if he’d have no problem handling any trouble that came at him, and the dog who somehow made him less frightening.
“Speaking of lists,” he added, “I’ll need one, of everyone you see on a regular basis. The personal names first, then business. Include when you last saw or spoke to them, and the circumstances. Don’t try to narrow it down, or leave anyone off that you think is unlikely or impossible. Let us do that.”
“Us?” She glanced at Jace, who hadn’t been in her life for nearly ten years. Never mind that he’d often been in her mind.
“I meant Foxworth,” Rafe said. “We’ve got resources.”
She frowned. “And you’re going to use them to, what? Poke around in the lives of everyone I know?”
“I promise you, they will never know.”
She still didn’t like the idea. “I don’t think so.”
For a brief moment, he didn’t answer. He looked just rueful enough that her entire impression of him changed. In that moment he looked like a man in unknown waters. It echoed in his voice when he said, “I made a big assumption, Ms. Grant, and I shouldn’t have.”
“What big assumption?”
He nodded. “That you wanted our help. I’m not usually the front man for Foxworth, or I wouldn’t have forgotten a crucial step.”