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“Absolutely,” Rand said, and quickly walked through the master bedroom, which was larger than he’d expected. The other rooms were smaller than he’d hoped. Still, he was happy.
As Rand rumbled down the street in his truck, Cate couldn’t help thinking that it suited him perfectly.
Cate called Sarah. “Hi. I finished much earlier than I’d thought. I have to run by the office, but I shouldn’t be more than an hour.”
Sarah explained she and Miss Milse were making dinner for the kids, and there was no rush. Danny and Timmy were playing with Beau, and Annie was practicing the piano.
Cate pulled away from the curb and drove to the first stop sign. She glanced in her rearview mirror, saw only a black Mercury sedan behind her, then checked right and left before proceeding across the intersection. She stopped at the red light at Indian Lake Avenue, turned on the stereo and punched in a new classical station she’d found.
Cruising toward the real-estate office on Indian Lake Avenue, Cate looked in the rearview mirror, checking the traffic.
She nearly froze. Was that the same black Mercury she’d seen on Park Street?
“No.” She refused to believe that anyone could be following her. This was a coincidence. Lots of people would travel to town taking the same route she was.
But after the visit from Trent Davis and his warnings about home invaders and watching for anything that was out of the ordinary, she had to admit to being slightly spooked.
Each time she came to a red light, even though the Mercury was directly behind her, it stayed back far enough that she couldn’t see the driver. That, in itself, seemed strange. And she didn’t like it.
Because of Cate’s work as a real-estate agent, showing houses, sitting in vacant houses on weekends, she’d taught herself to be aware of her surroundings. Maybe her ultrasensitivity or flat-out paranoia was due to the fact that she’d been living in disguise for over six years. Whatever it was, she knew when things didn’t feel right.
Like now.
There was only one way to find out if she was imagining things or if she should call the cops. She hit her turn signal and slipped to the right lane. Then she made a right turn onto Cove Beach Lane, which circled the entire lake.
The Mercury followed.
Cate’s blood pounded in her temples, heating her veins despite the fact her fingers were cold. She gripped the steering wheel. There was only one person who’d ever speared her with so much fear that she turned off all human emotion.
Brad.
That was impossible, wasn’t it? How could Brad be here? When she’d changed her name, it had needed to be published in the Indiana newspaper, but she still felt fairly safe since Brad had never looked at a newspaper that she remembered and he lived in Illinois. Still, she wondered how he could have found her. These days, there were ways. There were internet sites notorious for finding lost family and friends. Cate had been ridiculous in her distrust of providing any online information. She never paid her bills online. In fact, she hand-delivered her utilities checks. She paid cash at the grocery store, and she always paid the mortgage in person. Once she secured her first mortgage, she cancelled her credit card. Cate kept her money in a floor safe in her house. If she ever had to run again, even in the middle of the night, she was prepared.
There was the matter of her face being on not one, but three roadside real-estate billboards at the primary entrances to town. These billboards were a major part of her agency’s advertising campaign. Cate had tried to ditch the photography session, but her boss had been insistent. Cate had no choice but to agree to the photo.
This same photo of her was plastered on the company website, free neighborhood newspapers, the Indian Lake Argus newspaper and on flyers on a corkboard at the Indian Lake Grocery.
For years she’d told herself that the chances of Brad driving through Indian Lake were one in a billion.
He would never find her.
But what if he had stumbled upon her little town?
What if he had seen the billboard? Being supercritical now, she realized that, except for the hair and eye color, she really hadn’t changed much in the past seven years. Brad had always been sharp—it was one of the things she’d been attracted to. She liked smart people.
Her nerves jangled. Logically, there was no reason for her to think for one millisecond that the Mercury following her was driven by Brad.
But her intuition had never betrayed her. Never.
Cate tilted her head to the rearview mirror and looked hard and long at the man driving the Mercury. Though terrified at what she might see, she eased off the gas and let him approach.
He had dark hair, but that was all she could see.
If it was Brad, he had to want something.
But what?
She didn’t have any real money, just a few thousand in her safe. If Brad had found her, and knew anything at all, he most certainly knew about Danny.
Cate felt her stomach twist. She ground her jaw, already feeling massively protective toward her son. Late at night when dread drew mental pictures of Brad confronting her, she felt the kind of aggression that wouldn’t stop until she’d eliminated him from their lives completely. Brad’s need to possess was toxic. Cate believed that if Brad found out Danny was his son, he would try to take him away from her. Not because he loved Danny. Not because he wanted Cate back. He would take because that’s what Brad Kramer did. He took. He sucked energy from people. He stole lives.
It stupefied her that she’d once been so gullible, so naive as to fall into his trap. And it had been a trap—hard steel and metal teeth. Like the wolf that would bite off its own paw to escape from a hunter’s snare, Cate did the same thing. She’d thrown away everything she’d ever known to be rid of him.
Cate followed the curving road around the north side of the lake. The Mercury pursued. She didn’t dare drive to her house. She wasn’t safe there.
If this was Brad, he would follow her and break down the door once he knew she was home alone. Then what would he do? Beat her like before? Kill her for leaving him?
Cate’s hands trembled as she wiped a tear from her cheek. She wasn’t crying—was she? She’d never cried before over Brad and she scolded herself for doing it now. She had to think.
The Mercury pulled closer. Was he going to run her off the road? Slam into the back of her? Or just damage her car to punish her?
Cate pressed the gas and lurched out of his way. She was speeding, but she didn’t care. She’d circle the lake and then head into town. If he followed her, she’d drive straight to the police station.
Are you crazy? And tell them what? That you’ve been living here in disguise for over six years? That all your friends don’t even know who you really are?
Just then, Cate’s eyes shot to the right to check her side mirror. She saw Sophie Mattuchi pulling a garden cart filled with yellow and bronze mums into the front yard of Jack Carter’s condo. Automatically, Cate waved and Sophie waved back, signaling for her to pull in.
Cate quickly made her decision. The mysterious Mercury was enough to give her arrhythmia. She needed help. Now.
She turned into the drive, but didn’t get out. She watched her rearview mirror while pretending to put on some lip gloss.
The Mercury drove past. Slowly.
Cate choked on her breath. There was no mistaking the handsome face, the strong jaw and wide shoulders. She had no idea how or why Brad was in Indian Lake.
Was Brad’s presence here a fluke? A random trip? Was he a tourist like so many people from Chicago?
She wouldn’t know until she talked to him and that wasn’t an option.
Every muscle in her body had tightened, causing pain to shoot from her neck to her tailbone. She was as rigid as steel when Brad looked directly at her and lifted his forefinger like it was a gun barrel. He blew on his fingertip, stepped on the gas and sped away.
Brad. After all this time. He’s found me.
For more than six years, Cate’s new identity had worked to keep her invisible. Now he’d seen her. And that pointed finger. That was a promise—of bad things to come.
In those days when she’d been shackled to him, he used to point his finger like a gun then ball his fists. She knew precisely what Brad meant to do.
She dropped the lip gloss. She felt as if a vacuum had sucked her up a portal to an alien ship. All reality altered. She was in terror land. Pain, loss and danger circled her, harping at her like screaming banshees. She covered her ears.
“Hi, Cate!” Sophie called as she walked toward the car. “It’s nice to see you.”
Cate opened her eyes.
Not banshees.
Sophie. What is she saying? Get it together, Cate.
She forced her shaking, frigid hands to open the door, forced herself to climb out. “Hi, Sophie.” Cate tried to smile, but her lips felt like they’d been dragged through concrete. Brad had that effect on her. She walked toward Sophie, and when Sophie stretched open her arms for a hug, Cate hugged her back. “What are you doing?” She managed to cough out the words. She put her fist to her mouth and coughed again. “Sorry. Dry mouth. Allergies.”
She was back on earth. Talking to her friend. Brad was gone. At least for the moment. She had to calm the whirlwind of emotions inside her.
“Can I get you some water?” Sophie asked sweetly.
“I’m fine.” Cate thought she was smiling. She couldn’t tell. “So, what’s all this?” Cate asked walking toward the wagon.
“Oh, I’m planting my fall mums. I thought some yellow against the green Japanese yews and the white house would be pretty. What do you think?”
Though Cate’s mind was still disabled from the encounter with her ex-husband, she had enough presence of mind to act curious. “Your mums?” Cate looked at Jack’s condo—the one she’d sold him nearly a year ago. But Sophie lived in Mrs. Beabots’s upstairs apartment. Cate turned to Sophie. “Your mums, you said.” Cate was certain her hearing had been impaired by the shock she’d just endured.
“Er, uh,” Sophie stammered.
Cate’s eyes narrowed. Sophie was a cardiac nurse, a smart, career-oriented woman. Cate had never seen her at a loss for words. “Is something wrong?”
Sophie smiled sheepishly. Then she blushed.
Cate had run into Sophie over the years at various social events. They weren’t close friends the way Cate was with Sarah, Liz or Maddie. But they knew each other. Cate knew Sophie to be serious-minded nearly all the time. Sophie was a take-charge woman. There was nothing sheepish about her.
Then it hit Cate. “You and Jack?”
Sophie nodded like a bobblehead doll and chuckled. “Can you keep a secret?”
Could she? No one in the world could keep secrets as well as Cate. Her entire life was a secret. “I certainly can.”
Sophie thrust up her left hand. A diamond solitaire twinkled in the sunlight. “We’re engaged!” She blurted and covered her mouth as she started laughing. “Isn’t it amazing?”
Cate’s reaction was to be filled with dread. Marriage meant entrapment. Danger zone. Everything dire in life. Other people believed in happiness, love and forever. Cate wanted none of that.
She’d never shared her innermost thoughts with any of her friends. She didn’t dare start now. “I’m so happy for you,” Cate lied.
“Oh, thanks, Cate. Hardly anyone knows. Mrs. Beabots does, of course. Jack and I are starting to talk about the wedding and set a date. But it’s just crazy. My family would go nuts if we did it at city hall, but I can’t wait for my new life to begin. I never thought that I...”
“...would get married,” Cate murmured.
Sophie sighed dreamily. “Uh-huh.”
“I had no idea you were seeing him. I mean, that he was seeing you. Or that you two were together.”
“Nobody does, really. I mean, I took him to meet my parents just last weekend. They adore him already and he loves them, too, which is a very good thing. Don’t you think?”
“Oh, I do. I do.” Cate suddenly spied a black sedan drive past. He was stalking her. And there wasn’t a thing she could do about it.
She glanced at the car.
A Cadillac. Not Brad.
Cate exhaled. She planted a particularly sweet smile on her lips. Acting. Cate had been doing it for years. She was good at it. “I’m sure your parents will want a wedding with all the trimmings for their only daughter.”
“You’ve got that right. But I don’t want it to be too nuts, you know. We’re having the reception at their farm. Plenty of Italian food and lots of flowers from my grandmother’s sunflower garden, of course.” Sophie gushed. “It’ll be beautiful. You’re invited, of course. And please bring Danny. We definitely want kids there.”
“So,” Cate said. “You’ll be moving in here after the wedding.”
“Yes. But you know, Jack says he wants to look for a proper house. Still on the lake and one with a pier so he can have a little fishing boat. I don’t know what he’s thinking. This condo is wonderful.”
Cate shook her head. “Sophie. Please. He’s smart. He’s thinking of the future. You can’t put little kids in a house like this.”
Sophie’s brown eyes rounded. “Oh, my gosh, that is what he’s thinking, isn’t it? He’d said he wanted to talk to you so that you could be on the lookout if anything came up.”
Cate took out a business card from her jacket pocket. She’d meant to give it to Rand Nelson, but with the instant sale she’d forgotten. “Here. My new cell number is on the card. Tell Jack not to worry. I’ll ask around. I know a few houses where the couples want to downsize. And I won’t tell a soul anything about your engagement until after you make the announcement.”
“Thanks, Cate. I’ll be sure to tell him.” Sophie hugged Cate. “We’re lucky to have a good friend like you!”
Cate smiled at Sophie. She’d never seen Sophie so effusive. She’d always been standoffish and distant. Her relationship with Jack had certainly brought out a new and more affectionate side that Cate liked. “I have to run. You take care.”
“Bye, Cate.” Sophie waved and returned to the wagon of flowers.
Cate backed out of the driveway and drove away. Sophie and Jack. Cate thought Jack would be a good mate for any woman. She’d thought he was handsome when she first met him. Liked the way he did business. He treated people with kindness and fairness.
It would be nice if Cate had found a man like that. But she hadn’t. She’d chosen the worst kind of person a woman could pick.
Cate shook the visions of weddings and engagements and happily-ever-afters out of her head. Those things were fine for other women.
Just not for Cate Sullivan. Susan Kramer. Or whoever else she had to become in order to keep away from Brad—and stay alive.
CHAPTER FIVE
TRENT FINISHED TIGHTENING the heavy ropes that held the blue-and-gold-striped tent in place and shaded the Indian Lake Police booth from the noon sun. There were four officers working with him not counting Max, their one and only K-9 officer. Max was a highly trained narcotics detection canine and could be invaluable in helping Trent ramp up his investigation to bring down the Le Grande gang.
As much as Trent wanted to focus on the assorted donated items the men had gathered to sell—baked goods fragrant with sugar and butter, jars of homemade jellies, salsa, barbecue marinades, as well as jewelry made by some of the police widows and wives, and potted herbs the children had been growing all summer—his mind was on Le Grande.
Last night’s telephone conversation with Richard Schmitz had been enlightening.
“I met with my inside man and here’s what I know. Le Grande’s wife isn’t part of the gang. She’s clean. He didn’t know she was in Indian Lake when he set up operations there. He wanted your town because those country roads of yours are not well-patrolled. His Detroit connection has been using Indian Lake for years. That’s how Le Grande heard of it.”
“Does he know she’s here?”
“Yeah. My man was with him at a mini-mart buying cigarettes. There was a photo of her on a real-estate flyer under the glass at the checkout counter.”
“I’ve seen that flyer.”
“Apparently Le Grande goes off his nut when my guy brings up the subject of his wife. Le Grande told our guy that once he owns a person—family or gang member—that person is his for life.”
“So, Le Grande has objectified her.”
“Affirmative,” Richard replied dourly. “That fact has its good points. For one, it makes his actions predictable. People who see other humans as objects have a relentless need to possess and control. Le Grande’s mental issues could be to our advantage.”
“In his mind his business, drugs, gang members and ex-wife are all in the same category.”
“Exactly. It’s all his property,” Richard agreed.
“So he’s going to want her back.”
“I’m hoping so. If he concentrates on Indian Lake, where he hasn’t set up safe houses, hideaways and escape routes, we just might catch him in the act.”
“Is CPD thinking to set up another sting?”
“Think we, buddy. Both Chicago PD and Indian Lake need to plan this carefully. By the way, my inside guy says that Le Grande thinks the wife will want him back now that he’s wealthy.”
“I don’t see that at all,” Trent countered.
“Well, you’d know that from your end. I’m giving you a heads-up. We have to work out a lot of details. I’ll be in touch.”
Trent had a great deal to consider. He’d been relieved to know that Cate had no part of Le Grande or his drug trafficking business. Her sweet persona had not been put on, and she was the caring mother he’d gauged her to be. For a brief moment, he felt his tension lift. However, the focus of the CPD and ILPD was now on Cate. Trent knew that Richard was dedicated to ending Le Grande’s reign in Chicago. Trent wanted the drug lord out of Indian Lake for good.
Trent felt his nerves jangle. Utilizing an untrained citizen for a police sting was precarious, but often effective. Already he could think of a dozen reasons not to move forward and one reason they should.
With Trent and his military skill set as a Green Beret at the helm, it should work.
Drake Parsons, Max’s handler, bumped him with his elbow. “Help me with this poster, would ya, Trent?”
“Yeah, sure.” Trent cleared his mind of thoughts about Cate and Le Grande. He tacked the poster to a wooden framework he’d put together to display snapshots of the annual policemen’s picnic in City Park, and the police baseball team in their winning game at the city championship in late August. Trent had pitched after the regular pitcher had torn a ligament in his shoulder. Trent had surprised himself since he hadn’t pitched much since high school and a few impromptu games in the military.
In Afghanistan.
Just the thought of a baseball, its stitches fitting familiarly in his palm, skin against skin, brought back horrors. He dropped his arms and felt a spring of perspiration on his forehead. Nerves. Not heat. Would he ever get past the past?
“Trent, is that you?” He heard a woman’s voice behind him. He whirled, holding the hammer like a weapon.
He shook away the sticky cobweb of memories, peering through it to see Mrs. Beabots holding a huge apple pie.
She had the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. Approaching her was Cate Sullivan, whose eyes were dull—due to the brown contacts she wore. He wondered what color her eyes were. Blue? Green? Hazel? He’d probably never find out. Strangely, he wanted to know. It mattered to him, but he didn’t know why. It was probably because of his overactive detective antennae.
“Wow.” Trent reached to take the spectacular-looking pie from Mrs. Beabots. “This should bring a good price. Maybe we should auction it.”
Mrs. Beabots winked at him. “That’s the ticket. I like that idea.”
“Hi, Cate,” Trent said, noticing her eyes were focused on him. She stood still, holding a tray with two pies.
“Hi,” Cate replied with a faint smile. She continued to look at him, as though she were inspecting him. Taking stock. Her behavior was odd based on their meeting the night of the intruder.
But then she’d been frightened.
Terror twisted things. He should know.
Danny wiggled in between both women and shoved a canvas bag at Trent. “We have more in the car,” the boy said. “I’m going back.”
“Not without me you aren’t, young man,” Cate said instantly.
Trent could have sworn the little shake of her head was to break her focus on him. He wasn’t sure why she took such close inventory. Did cops make her nervous? He had to believe that was partly true since she’d been lying to everyone in town.
Fascinating, when he thought about it. He wondered exactly how she had picked Indian Lake. It could have been as simple as the fact that she didn’t know anyone here. No relatives to blow the whistle on her. No former friends. Anonymity. That had to be it.
He’d seen the scenario a million times over. Fresh starts. New vistas. And no past to think about. But even he knew that no matter how focused one was on the future, the past never left. His past crept around like slinky varmints with sharp teeth ready to gnaw at his Achilles’ heel.
“Do you have a lot of stuff?” Trent asked Cate as she started to walk away.
“Enough to fill all four of these tables,” Mrs. Beabots said. “Cate and Danny were kind enough to help me.”
Trent turned to Drake, who was placing price stickers on jars of green pepper jelly. “I’m going with Cate. Be back in a few.”
Drake’s eyes shot over to the pretty brunette. “Sure, Trent.” He chuckled with a playful lift to his grin. “You go right ahead.”
He was no more interested in Cate romantically than he was in pigs flying. He followed her, noticing the tight fit to the skinny jeans she wore and the feminine, aqua-and-blue print blouse. There were silver hoops in her ears that hung below the precision-cut edge of her chin-length dark hair. She wore some kind of open-toed canvas shoes that revealed brightly painted aqua toes.
The toes matched her blouse. She liked fashion? Or was she meticulous about her appearance? He remembered that her house was very clean—and she had a six-year-old son. The way he remembered being six, he’d been constantly in and out of dirt, and almost never walked into the house without grass stains from playing baseball at the nearby park. Was she overprotective? Paranoid? Or both?
They reached the SUV, and Cate opened the hatch. Trent noticed that the vehicle, too, was immaculate. The windows didn’t have a speck of dirt or grime, and it would take him half a Saturday to get a wax gleam this perfect.
Cate lifted a tray of cupcakes. “You take these. I’ll bring the pies. Danny, sweetheart, you take the pan of brownies.”
“Yes, ma’am!” Danny replied, staring wide-eyed at the chocolate confections.
Trent couldn’t help it; he had to ask. “You just have your car detailed?”
“Huh?” She looked at the tan leather seats. “Not really. I keep it up myself. An agent’s car is practically the office, you know. First impressions to clients are crucial.”
“I’ve heard that,” Trent replied with a smile.
Cate didn’t return the smile, only scanned him with laser-like scrutiny.
Had he revealed too much too soon? He had to win her confidence if he was to get any information about Le Grande. He continued smiling as they walked to the booth.
Keeping up with small talk was important. As an investigator, he never knew when an important piece of information would drop in his lap. “Well, you must be doing something right because you’ve built a good business here in town. How long have you been in real estate?”
“A little over five years. The minute I had my license, I went right to work. I swear, I haven’t had a day off since. It’s been good to me, and I enjoy every minute. My clients have become friends, as well.” There was a slight stiffness to her response.