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Payne Kincaid smiled at her from across the small table that occupied a sunroom that was easily the size of her living room and dining room put together. The business section of the morning newspaper was spread before him, which was how she’d found him when she’d come down. A silver cordless phone rested on the table near his hand.

“I’m a firm believer in ‘you get what you pay for,’ “ he said.

“Well, you must pay millions for this stuff.”

He nudged the black carafe that sat between them. “Drink up. You look like you need it.”
 

“I really am fine, Uncle Payne,” she said. A dull headache still throbbed in her temples, but overall, she felt much better than she had the night before.

He looked unconvinced as he checked his Rolex. “Breakfast should be up any minute. I took the liberty of asking the staff to put together your favorite. Or what was your favorite when you were a kid.”

“Pancakes with pecans and cinnamon syrup?” she asked hopefully.

“Of course.”

Smiling, she sipped more coffee. As his attention went back to the business page, she studied the man who’d treated her like a daughter for as long as she could remember.
 

She loved his hair best. Thick and blond and salted with silver, it fell in layers as if he had only to run his fingers through it to get it to fall into place. Even the lines in his face, moderated by a deep, year-round tan, were charming. Everything about him was dignified, always in complete control, his dark brown eyes never giving away a hint of what he was thinking or feeling. She tried to remember whether she’d ever seen him sweat.

Catching her scrutiny, he smiled. And, for the first time in days, she felt safe. “I really appreciate you letting me stay here,” she said.

“I believe you were the one who once told me my home is like a fortress.”

She glanced around at the expensive blond wood, Italian ceramic tile and floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out on an acre of green grass and palm trees that could easily have passed for a golf course. More floor-to-ceiling windows showed a view of the Gulf of Mexico, its surface glittering like shards of glass in the morning sun.

Of everything about his home, she loved the artwork best. Every aspect of the house—architecture, décor, lighting—was designed to draw attention to the art. There were no prints here, no imitations. Everything was original, and while Payne appreciated the masters, he also had a fair amount of love for lesser-known artists.
 

Her favorite piece was an onyx sculpture of a sleek panther with feral eyes. She thought of Cole Goodman with his dark, almost black hair and piercing blue eyes. He moved like a panther. And his eyes …
 

Shaking her head, she forced her brain away from him and refocused on her surroundings. Payne’s home certainly didn’t
look
like a fortress. But she was well aware of its extensive security measures. In some ways, the security seemed excessive. But the artwork alone was worth millions, so she couldn’t blame him for wanting to protect what was important to him, especially when she was benefiting from it.
 

She glanced at him and found him watching her with an affectionate smile. “I hope I’m not keeping you from anything,” she said.

“Not at all. I’m delighted to have you. I don’t get to see you nearly enough these days.”

She reached over to briefly clasp his hand. “I’m sorry about that.”

“No need to be. I know you’re a busy woman.” He folded the newspaper and set it aside. “I let you off the hook last night because you were exhausted, but we need to talk now about this trouble you’re having.”

She nodded as she sipped her orange juice. “I’m ready to tell you all about it now.”

“Good. I’m listening.”

Chapter 23

Cole went to the front desk at the Kendall Falls Police Department and asked for the police officer who could hopefully give him the answers he wanted. Less than a minute after the desk sergeant made a call, Officer Molly Jenkins appeared, a welcoming smile on her pretty face.
 

“I haven’t seen you in ages, Cole Goodman.”

He returned her smile as he shook her hand, struck as usual by how small she was. Petite, blonde and blue-eyed, she looked more like a cheerleader than a police officer. When he’d first met her, he’d doubted her ability to hold her own in even a mildly tough situation. Not because he was a sexist bastard but because she looked far too delicate. Turned out, she knew how to use that to her advantage. After Cole had seen her take down an unsuspecting guy twice her size, all his doubts had been sheepishly put to rest.

“Hey, Molly. How’ve you been?”

“Busy. We’re understaffed even more than usual. Budget cuts. What can I do for you?”

“I have some questions about a case you worked about a year ago involving Bailey Chase and Daniel Chambers. I’m hoping you remember the incident.”

Her blonde eyebrows scrunched together. “Of course I remember it. But don’t you work with Bailey Chase at the
Sun
?”

He nodded. “She’s a co-worker, yes.”

Molly considered him with quizzical eyes. “What’s going on? Is she in trouble again?”

“What kind of trouble would that be?”
 

She cocked her head. “Is this for a story for the newspaper?”

“No. It’s … uh, personal.”

“Then why don’t you ask her?”

“I’d like to know what I’m dealing with first.”

“Are you two dating or something?”

“No! At least … no.” He shrugged. “I’m curious, that’s all.”

“I’m not going to betray that woman’s privacy because you’re curious, Goodman.”

“Can you just stop being a cop for a few minutes and talk to me like the friends we are?”

“A couple of beers at O’Malley’s does not make us the kind of friends who share other people’s secrets.”

“That hurts, Molly.”

She rolled her eyes. “I have to get back to work.”

He put his hand on her arm to ask her to wait. “I like her, okay? And Daniel Chambers is a friend. I seriously need to know their history before I get in any deeper.”

Her eyes went to slits. “You’re a friend of that asshole’s? I thought you had better taste than that.”

“We haven’t hung out since college, if that helps.”

Her demeanor softened. “Maybe a little.”

“Daniel’s told me some stuff about him and Bailey, and I think he’s lying.”

Just like that, Molly’s expression hardened. “Oh, he’s lying all right.”
 

Cole’s stomach did a slow roll. Could this be worse than he even expected? “Molly, please. Bailey won’t talk to me. I … I want to help her. If I can.”

She sighed and gestured toward the exit. “Let’s walk.”

Outside, Cole squinted against the harsh morning sunshine. A storm brewed in the distance, threatening to turn the sunny, seventy-eight-degree day unpleasant.

They’d walked a full block before Molly spoke again. “I don’t know all the details. I just know what I saw.”

“Of course.”
 

They turned onto a side street of white stucco and faded blue awnings, where pedestrian traffic was light. Molly still took another minute before she started talking.
 

“My partner and I were first on the scene. A neighbor had called 911 after hearing shouting and a loud crash. At first, it looked like an accident. Chambers said Bailey tripped and fell through the glass coffee table.”

The rich latte Cole had downed churned in his stomach. “Jesus.”

“There was quite a bit of blood, and she was already in shock when we got there. While I called for an ambulance, Chambers started losing it. He kept apologizing. The paramedics came and took her away while my partner and I talked to the neighbors who’d called it in. When we cornered Chambers with what the neighbors were saying about the shouting and the noise, he broke down. He said he and Bailey had been arguing. He wouldn’t admit to hitting her, but it seemed pretty obvious that that’s what happened.”

Cole’s fingers curled into tight fists.
Bastard. That fucking bastard.
“Did he say what they were fighting about?”
 

She shot him a sharp look as they paused at an intersection to wait for a “walk” signal. “What difference does that make?”

“I’m just trying to get the full picture here.”

“If he hit her, it doesn’t matter what they were fighting about. There’s no excuse.”

“I know that, Molly. Don’t you think I know that?”

“Depends. Are you a friend or a reporter here?”

He clenched his jaw. “Friend. I’m her friend.”

A lock of hair blew across her face and she tucked it behind her ear as she frowned at the darkening sky. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
 

She faced Cole suddenly. “A piece of glass sliced her open here.” She drew a finger across the right section of her abdomen where Cole recalled seeing the scar puckering Bailey’s skin.
 

“I saw the medical report, Cole. It’s part of the case file. She was nine weeks pregnant. The baby didn’t survive the trauma.”

Cole’s breath locked in his throat. Oh, God. He couldn’t think beyond that.
 

Oh, God.

Rage billowed up inside him like a cloud of thick black smoke.
 

Molly resumed walking, and Cole had to force himself to fall into step with her.

“When I finally got the opportunity to talk to her,” Molly said, “a couple of days after the … incident, she refused to press charges. Said she wanted to move on. I gave her my card and asked her to call me later if she changed her mind. She never did. I tried to reach out to her a couple of times, but she didn’t return my calls.” She squinted sideways at him. “That’s why the case is still open. We didn’t have enough to charge him. He never admitted to anything, and the neighbors just heard shouting and a crash. The case was too weak without a statement from her. I was hoping she’d change her mind.”

Cole said nothing, not sure he could speak without losing his cool.
 

Daniel, that son of a bitch, had cost Bailey her child and then had the nerve to pretend he was the injured party. Who could be that …
cruel
?
 

Cole rubbed the busted skin of his knuckles. The memory of sending Daniel careening into the wall didn’t make him want to pummel him any less.

“Goodman.”

He focused on Molly, realizing she’d said his name more than once. “Now that you know, you have to let it go,” she told him. “You can’t do anything.”

“What makes you think I’m going to do anything?”

She took a step closer, nailing him with a hard look. “I’m not kidding, Goodman. Anything happens to Daniel Chambers and I’m coming after you. Got that?”

“It would be worth it.”

“It’s not worth it. Bailey let it go. You need to do the same.”

He tried to get the fury under control. But how could he? That bastard. That
bastard
.
 

Molly put a hand on his arm and squeezed. “I’m serious, Cole. You have to let it go. For her.”

He closed his eyes and let his shoulders sag. She was right. He knew she was right. But, God, he wanted to ram Daniel’s head through a plate-glass window.
How does that feel, you fucking asshole coward?
 

“Cole?”

He opened his eyes to find Molly watching him expectantly.
 

He forced himself to nod. “I’ll let it go.”

* * *

In his SUV, Cole cranked up the air conditioning, turned on the windshield wipers and took several deep breaths.
 

He wanted—
needed
—to pound Daniel into a bloody, pulpy mess.

It infuriated him that Daniel had told that particular lie. He’d known what Cole had gone through with his own wife, and he’d capitalized on Cole’s history to … what? Get sympathy? To make sure Cole stayed away from Bailey? But why?

And then it clicked.
 

Daniel had spilled his guts about Bailey just as Cole had moved to the area to start his new job at
The Kendall Falls Sun
. Daniel knew Cole would be working with Bailey, would perhaps even befriend her. And he was probably right. Cole had been drawn to her right away but had steered clear because of what Daniel had told him.

One big stinking lie to cover up the fact that he’d slugged a woman hard enough to knock her through a sheet of glass. Violently enough to cause the loss of their child.
 

He’d been terrified that Cole would find out and tell their friends.
 

So he’d picked a lie that would resonate with Cole. An abortion.

Damn it, why had he even told Daniel what happened? Why had he succumbed to his own pathetic demons and told that heartless son of a bitch anything?

And luck had been on Daniel’s side, Cole thought bitterly. If Bailey had been a different kind of woman, she would have told everyone she knew what a lowlife jackass Daniel was. Instead, she’d kept that information to herself. She probably would have moved away, but her brother and nephew were here. She never would have left them. No matter what it cost her.