Double Take (16 page)

“Please, stop and think.” She didn’t release him. “You’re so angry I doubt you can see straight. If you approach her this way, you’ll put her on the defensive and make it worse!”

“Worse? How can it get worse?” He was disbelieving. “We find a loaded gun—a frigging loaded gun—in her room—not to mention that she’s stealing your underwear!”

Kait let go of his arm. She winced.

“Why would you protect her? You don’t like her—you never did. How long has this been going on? That was your red sweater she had on last night, wasn’t it? Damn! I thought I recognized it,” he cried, not waiting for her answer.

She slipped her hand in his. “C’mon. Let’s sit down. Just for a minute.”

His eyes met hers, skipped away, then came back. She saw desperation there. “How long has she been stealing from you?” he asked roughly.

Her heart broke. She wanted to touch, no stroke, his brow. “It’s not stealing. It’s borrowing,” she said as roughly.

“Why are you protecting her? I have no doubt she didn’t ask permission.”

Kait hesitated. Maybe it was best that he knew the entire truth about his daughter. “No, she didn’t.”

“That’s stealing in my book,” he said grimly. Then, “It’s illegal for a minor to possess a handgun without parental consent!”

Kait pulled him over to Sam’s bed. “Sit down, please.”

He looked right into her eyes—and maybe her heart, too—with all of his defenses down. And as Kait looked back into his green eyes, as she saw how much he loved Sam and how scared he was, her heart went out to him. She wanted to see this man happy. And God, she knew now that meant his divorcing her sister so he could have the peace and serenity he and his children deserved.

He sat down, cradling his face in his hands. Kait touched his solid shoulder, and he looked up. Their gazes locked.

And the look he gave her knocked the breath out of her lungs, it tightened her body, it made her want to take him in his arms, touch him all over, take him inside her, taming the lion and freeing the man.

She smiled a little and sat down carefully beside him. But she was terribly shaken. “We should look at this one piece at a time. We don’t know why Sam has been borrowing my things. She’s at a very tough age, and she wouldn’t be the first adolescent to engage in this kind of behavior. My first thought isn’t that she hates me—which is all my fault, I might add—but that she wants either your or my attention— or maybe both of our attention.”

He stared, his stare unwavering. She saw his eyes soften. “Since when did you become so kind?”

“I don’t know. Let’s not talk about me right now, okay? I think we should leave the issue of Sam taking my things alone for now. It’s a good issue for a psychologist, Trev.”

He continued to stare at her, appearing absolutely bewildered. “You’re right.” He glanced up at the ceiling and shook his head. “I never, ever thought I’d see the day where I’d be telling you that you’re right.” He smiled a little at her.

Her heart burst into song.
What she wouldn’t do for a lifetime of those smiles.
Then she realized the direction of her own thoughts, and she was completely stricken again. Kait managed to smile back, no easy task now. “So we should focus on the gun,” she said firmly.

His expression hardened. “It
has
to be Jenkins’s.”

“I hope you’re right.”

He faced her more fully. “I can’t wait until tonight to speak to her. I just can’t, Lana.”

She understood. “But you’re calmer now. If you go get her at school, you have to stay calm like this. Shouting at her won’t help. In fact, I’ll bet she won’t tell you a thing if you do scream at her.”

He was staring again, the way he had before. He stood and gazed down at her. “Maybe it was that knock on the head you took when you fell. Because I would almost swear that you are a different person since then.”

Her heart raced with alarm. She also stood. “Nope. Sorry, it’s the same old me. But, hopefully, a bit more introspective, a bit new and improved.” She hesitated. “I have so many regrets, Trev.”

“I just don’t get it,” he said with a shake of his head.

She shrugged, attempting a light, who-knows kind of expression.

He hesitated. “Thanks,” he said. “Thanks a lot.”

She melted from her head to her toes, and it was frightening, how one heartfelt word could have such an effect upon her. “You’re welcome,” she said.

She paced downstairs after Trev left, wishing she had been invited to go with him, but knowing that wouldn’t have been right and she would have ended up staying at Fox Hollow anyway. Worry filled her. Sam was at a tough age, and Trev was extremely upset. But now, she could only hope for the best when she feared an escalation of emotions and conflict.

Elizabeth came out of the kitchen to stand with her hands on her hips, staring at her. She didn’t say a word, but her expression clearly indicated that she wanted to know what was happening. Kait was tired of Elizabeth’s disapproval and hostility, both silent and acknowledged. She slipped past her, into the kitchen.

She might as well wander over to the barn and see if Max was around. Snooping in his suitcase would keep her mind off Trev and his daughter and might solve the mystery of who and what he really was. She took a small paring knife from the knife drawer and slipped it into the back pocket of the black trousers she wore. It was hard to believe that she was really going to break into someone’s personal possessions. Kait was nervous.

“What are you doing?”

Kait smiled at Elizabeth without animosity. “What I am not doing is stabbing someone in the back,” she said, and she went out.

It was a gray, wintry day, as if, all of a sudden, winter had decided to descend upon Skerrit County with a vengeance. Kait was only wearing a white button-down shirt with slacks, and she shivered. Tomorrow she was going shopping for some casual clothes—and Trev could write it off as more of the odd behavior he could not understand or explain.

Max’s Toyota was gone. Her anxiety had increased, but at least he was not around. A moment later, as she stepped inside, she saw that the redheaded boy was in the feed room, but no one else was about. The coast seemed free and clear.

Now Kait could use a bit of her sister’s nerve. She paused in the open doorway. “Hi. Max around?”

“He’s down at the broodmare barn.”

This was the perfect opportunity, then. Kait thanked him and hurried out. A moment later she was racing up the narrow, dark stairs to the two apartments above the barn.

This time, Max’s door was closed. She reached for the knob and realized it was locked. Dismay flooded her.

He had not kept his door locked before. What did this mean?

She juggled the knob, but without success. She paused and stared at the closed door. Last time, his door had been wide open. Had he known he’d had an intruder the other day? She was sorry she had automatically closed the door when she had been through going over his studio, but was that necessarily a giveaway?

She knew Max Zara was not all that he claimed to be. He was intelligent and he was astute, and she’d bet he’d had a college education—at least. The door was now locked for a good reason. Kait was more than nervous now, for this was really breaking and entering. But she just felt that Max Zara was the key to many secrets at Fox Hollow.

Kait pulled out the paring knife, but the point would not fit in the simple lock, which was a small slit in the center of the knob. She frowned. This was a simple lock—one had only to twist a raised button on the knob’s other side to lock it. She hesitated, and slid the knife between the door and jamb.

She hadn’t ever done this before, but she’d seen movies where a lock was jimmied with a credit card. She slid the knife upward and—Voilà. The lock clicked free.

Kait inhaled for courage and pushed the door open—but it did not budge.
He’d added another lock on the inside.

He was on to her.

Or he knew someone had been in his apartment the other day.

Suddenly determined, Kait walked breathlessly to the adjacent apartment and found that door open. She walked into the dusty, unused flat, which was similar to Max’s. Then she saw the window. It was on the same wall as the window in Max’s flat, and if she did not miss her guess, no more than ten feet separated them.

She hurried over, shoved it open as far as it would go, and looked down. She was on the second story, and if she fell she would probably break an ankle, if not her neck. She leaned out and found that she had overestimated the distance between the windows. Maybe six feet separated them—and Max’s window was wide open.

And a gutter ran along the roof of the barn, with a small ledge a few feet below the windows. It was only a few inches wide, but she had small feet. And heights had never scared her, not until now.

She had come this far. She had three more days to survive before Lana returned. She couldn’t turn back now.

Kait closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then opened them and stepped carefully through the window, standing on the narrow ledge by holding on to the gutter. With the front of her body pressed flat against the building, she inched over to Max’s window. It was hard to breathe. She tried not to think about falling. Instead, she told herself again and again that the answer to who Max Zara really was, was inside that locked suitcase.

A moment later Kait was heaving herself through his window and onto his apartment floor.

She landed on her hands and knees, and she began to laugh.

Her laughter was a bit hysterical, but, by God, she had done it. Not only had she gotten past his doubly locked door, she’d climbed a window ledge to do it. Ridiculously, she felt proud of herself.

If only Lana could see her now.

Kait stood, dusted herself off, wiped sweat from her cheeks, and hurried over to the bed. She knelt and pulled out the locked suitcase. She tried the point of the knife in the small padlock, with no results.

Kait sat back on her haunches. If a baggage handler could break into just about any kind of locked bag, then so could she. She tried to jimmy the lock again. It did not click open.

What the hell, she thought. Inhaling, she seized the bag and dug the knife into the vinyl. It was amazingly strong. Kait forced the knife through the fabric, widening the tear until it was big enough for one of her hands. She reached in, and for the second time in twenty-four hours, gripped cold, lethal steel.

He had a gun in his bag.

For one moment, she did not move, absolutely stunned, and then she pulled it out.

She inhaled harshly. This gun did not look at all like the rather generic one she had found in Sam’s room. This gun was big and very dangerous in appearance, it looked like the kind of gun Clint Eastwood had wielded in too many movies to count. That is, it looked like the kind of gun meant to kill.

“Damn,” she said, barely able to get the single word out.

She laid the gun aside, hesitated, and stuck her hand slowly back in the suitcase, with the kind of dread one has when one expects to get bit. This time, her hand closed on leather.

But it was long and narrow and she somehow knew without pulling it out that it was a sheath, and in it was a knife.

She extracted the object and found that she had been right. Worse, the knife wasn’t a simple knife—it was a long, slim dagger, the kind that was meant for very bad purposes indeed.

Who the hell was Max Zara?

And why was he at Fox Hollow?

Kait knew beyond a doubt that he was at Fox Hollow because of Lana—or because of the trouble she was in. For there was no other possible explanation. But she had been right about one thing—he was hardly a stable boy.

But whose side was he on?

Kait had a bad feeling. She hoped he was a cop. But cops didn’t carry stilettos. And he hated her sister.

And maybe she had better get right out of his apartment, before he found her there.

Kait stuck the knife back in his suitcase, and was about to do so with the gun when she heard the sound of a lock snapping open.

Then she heard the door.

This could not be happening.
...

Panic flooded her.

“What the hell are you doing?” Max Zara asked oh-so-calmly. Slowly, still on her haunches, Kait turned.

It was so hard to breathe.

Max closed the door behind him, his movements casual and somehow infinitely threatening. “What are you doing?” he asked again, his eyes moving briefly to the gun.

She was still holding it. She dropped the gun and leapt to her feet. What was she doing? Why, she was checking him out, and, in fact, she had just broken and entered his apartment illegally. What excuse could she possibly come up with?

What if he were the one after Lana? What if he was the one who had taken a shot at her?

Kait quickly told herself that if he wanted her dead, he’d had ample opportunity. No, he didn’t want her dead—not yet.

She was not relieved.

He folded his arms across his barrel-like chest. “I think I should be the one asking questions,” she said, her tone a rasp.

This seemed to amuse him. “Really? I’m thinking about calling the cops.” But his tone was mild.

Kait swallowed and accepted what had to be a bluff. “Go ahead. Because you have a gun and a knife, and I don’t think you have a permit for the gun, and as for the knife, well, isn’t a weapon like that illegal?” Who the hell carried a stiletto around?

Someone very, very dangerous. Someone with lethal intent. Someone outside the law.

He hadn’t moved. He had a slight smile on his face. “Actually, the knife isn’t illegal, and I do have a permit for the gun.”

She tried to shake the cobwebs from her brain. “Can I see the permit?”

He seemed to laugh. He dug a wallet out of his jeans and opened it, revealing a gun permit that looked authentic. It even had his photograph on it. “Happy?”

“No.”

She had to get out of there, as soon as possible.

“Why? Because I’ve found you in my apartment, where you have no right to be? What were you looking for, Mrs. Coleman?” His eyes narrowed. “I mean, unless I miss my guess, this is not a social call.”

“I’m sorry. I had no business snooping.” Kait forced a smile and tried to move past him.

His hand clamped down hard on her wrist. “Why the rush, Mrs. Coleman?” He breathed, turning her back around. He wasn’t smiling now. “You seem frightened.”

“I’m not frightened,” Kait lied.

“Really.” He released her. Kait couldn’t move. “You haven’t answered my question, Mrs. Coleman? What are you doing up here?”

She looked into his cool blue eyes and did not see any heat. She did not see any anger, any desire. New fear added to her tension. She somehow felt that this was a game, that he was toying with her. And she desperately needed an excuse for going through his things. “I don’t think you are who you say you are.”

He dared to laugh. “No? I hate to tell you this, but I’m a fairly ordinary guy whose wife dumped him, who lost his job, who works in a stable because it pays the bills and puts a roof over my head.”

Kait didn’t believe him.

“And I’m NRA through and through, which is why I have a gun.”

Kait still didn’t believe him. She didn’t think he was an ordinary guy, not for a moment. He had the sharpest, most probing gaze she had ever met, and she hadn’t imagined either his loathing or the sexual tension in him when they had first met.

But both were gone now.

What if he knew everything? What if he had heard her entire phone conversation last night with her sister? What if he knew she wasn’t Lana, and that was why he wasn’t attracted to her now, that was why he was no longer hostile to her?

“Most people ask questions when they have doubts about someone. You went to a lot of trouble to get in here,” he said softly, cutting into her thoughts.

She wet her lips. “Someone took a shot at me the day before yesterday, or have you forgotten?”

“I haven’t forgotten. But you’ve aroused a lot of emotions in this town since you first came here, now, haven’t you... Lana?”

He’d never called her by her sister’s first name before. The way he murmured it sent a shiver of fear down her spine. “I have many regrets. My behavior recently is certainly one of them.”

“Really?” Now both brows lifted. “Undergoing a change of heart?”

“Yes.” She tilted up her chin aggressively. “I really am sorry for the past. I’m sorry if I ever led you on. Now I have to go. Trev will be looking for me at any moment.”

“Trev went to town,” he said calmly.

Kait turned grimly, and to her relief he did not seize her arm from behind. But her relief was short-lived when he spoke.

“A word of advice.”

She halted and didn’t dare turn around.

“Keep to yourself,” he said. “You may have had a change of heart, but this is a small town with a big memory. I’d hate to think of what might happen to a pretty girl like you if you don’t.”

She whirled to face him. “What do you know?” she cried. “Do you know who shot at me, and, if so, why?”

His smile was fixed. “I know as much as you, and if I were you, I’d lie real low.”

Kait stared into his eyes. They were hard now, hard and cold but not malicious. Had she been mistaken? Was this man on her side?

“Oh—and next time you feel like going through my things? I might not be so mellow about it.” He smiled without humor.

Kait had just entered the house, still stunned by her encounter with Zara, and worse, thoroughly confused, when she heard a car’s engine outside. She whirled and ran to the window beside the front door. Trev’s cobalt blue Dodge Ram was in the driveway. She watched Sam leap out of the passenger side of the cab, slam the door closed, and run to the house. She glimpsed a tearful, furious expression on the teenager’s face.

Trev got out more slowly.

Kait turned as Sam strode into the house. She was very angry, and tears streaked her cheeks. “Sam, wait,” Kait said automatically.

Sam turned, saw her, and her eyes widened in disbelief. “You! This is all your fault! I hate you!” She turned and ran up the stairs, disappearing.

Kait realized that Trev was standing in the doorway. She took one look at him and wanted to pull him into her arms. She didn’t move.

His face was ravaged with conflicting emotions. He glanced grimly at her and started toward his study. Kait didn’t hesitate; she followed. “What can I do to help?”

He went to his desk, but didn’t sit. “Nothing.”

“I’m sorry.”

He stared at the papers scattered on the desktop.

“Is the gun hers?”

“I don’t know.” He looked up, meeting Kait’s eyes. Agony was reflected all over his mobile face. “She said it was none of my business.”

She couldn’t stop herself. She went to him and slipped her hand around his neck. His eyes widened. “Can I try to talk to her?” she asked, trying not to notice how smooth the skin on his nape was; how soft the baby-fine hairs there.

“Actually, she said it was none of my
fucking
business.”

Kate winced. She had never seen any man this upset.

“I hit her,” he said.

She froze. “What?”

“I didn’t mean to!” he cried. “But when she used that word, I smacked her.” He sat down and cradled his face with his hands. “I love her, Lana. I love my little girl. I’ve never hit her before, not ever! It was a reflex! A goddamned terrible reflex!”

“I know how much you love her,” Kait whispered. She rubbed his shoulder. “It will be all right.”

“Will it be all right?” He looked at her with agonized eyes. “I hit my own daughter. I’ve never struck her, not ever. She’ll never forgive me!”

“Yes, she will.” Kait was firm. “Trev, focus. Sam may be in trouble. Stay focused on the fact that she had a gun in her possession.”

He stared for another moment. “You’re right. All right. Maybe you should try to talk to her—being as you are suddenly so wise.” He gave her an odd look.

“Thanks,” Kait said, looking away and not responding to the question in his words. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“You do that,” he said, worry clear now on his features.

Kait patted his shoulder and walked out. But once she had her back to him, her reassuring demeanor changed. He had struck his daughter. That would not be easily overcome. And while there was no excuse, she understood. But she must stay focused, as well. Sam had had a lethal weapon in her possession, and she had to get to the bottom of whatever was going on.

Kait took the stairs very slowly, praying for more wisdom than she knew she possessed. As she went upstairs, it struck her that what Sam needed now more than a parent was a friend. Maybe, somehow, she could become that person.

Kait felt a flash of trepidation as she faced Sam’s closed door. She knocked.

“Go away,” Sam said hoarsely.

Kait hesitated. “Sam, please let me in.”

“You! You’re the last person I’d talk to now! Screw off!” The stereo went on, blasting at full volume.

Kait winced. Sam’s door was probably locked. Still, she tested the knob. She had been right. “Sam, please. Your father loves you very much, and that is why he is so upset. He didn’t mean to hit you. He’s sick with guilt right now. I know how hurt you must be feeling. Why don’t you let me in so we can talk about it? I’m actually a pretty good listener.”

The only response Kait had was the stereo blasting some horrible, screeching rock band. She didn’t know what to do.

“My dad never hit me,” she finally said. How true that was—she had been the apple of his eye. But with Lana, the story had been quite different. “And I was a handful growing up, too,” she said, referring to her twin now. “When I was your age I stayed out all night with my friends, with boys, and I went to wild parties.” In reality, Lana had been uncontrollable, hadn’t she? Their mother had died and their father hadn’t known what to do. But he’d been grieving for his wife. He’d grieved for a long, long time. “I broke every rule my dad had—my mother died when I was thirteen—but he never hit me. He never did much, in fact, after my mother died. I guess his heart was broken and he never recovered, really.” Kait paused, saddened by the memory of a man she had loved and admired. Then she heard a silence on the other side of the door—the stereo had been turned off. Sam was listening. “My father moved down to Miami to retire when I went to college. He died a few years ago. I wish now that he’d paid more attention when I was so young and so wild. Maybe if he’d cared a bit more he would have.” Kait paused. “Your dad hit you because he cares so damn much, Sam.”

A long moment passed. Sam pushed open her door. She had been crying—tears were drying on her smooth skin, and the tip of her nose was red. “Are you making that up?”

“No, I’m not. I was wild as a teen, and my dad was so lost in his grief he didn’t notice and didn’t care. Your father loves you very much, Sam,” Kait said earnestly, “and I know you know that.”

Sam wiped her eyes with her arm. She stepped away, but left the door open. Kait followed her in; Sam flopped stomach-first on the bed, her face in the pillow. Kait paused a few feet from the bed. “Trev is so worried about you,” Kait said softly. “He’s worried because you had the gun in your drawer.”

Sam sat up. Her long, straight blond hair whipped about her face and shoulders. “He wouldn’t have ever known if you hadn’t been snooping in my room!” she cried angrily.

Kait said carefully, “I should have asked you about my clothes. You’re right. My judgment was poor.”

Sam blinked at her. “Damn right it was!”

“Do you have to curse?” Kait asked quietly.

Sam was incredulous. “Why shouldn’t I? I hear you cursing all the time!”

Kait winced. “It’s a terrible and unladylike habit,” she finally said.

Sam blinked at her again, as if she had come down from the moon. Then, her shoulders up, she asked, “Aren’t you going to say something about the sweaters and your jacket?”

So she had taken a jacket, too? “No. I think that’s something we should talk about another time.” Then, “I would gladly lend you anything in my wardrobe, Sam; I’d only appreciate it if you asked me first.”

Sam stared, wide-eyed. “Anything?”

“Anything suitable for a girl your age.”

Sam scowled. “Can I borrow that black lace dress for Gina’s party?”

Kait knew the dress she was referring to, as it was an eye-catcher—very sheer and absolutely inappropriate for a girl Sam’s age. “No. But you can borrow the black dress with the cap sleeves and the chain belt,” she said. That was elegant but still sexy, only in a subtle way. In fact, on Sam, who was tall and leggy, it would look great.

Sam brightened. “Really? That’s a Donna Karan!”

Kait smiled and dared to sit down on the edge of the bed. “I said it was fine.”

Sam stared now with suspicion. “What do you want? You have to want something if you’re being so nice to me.”

That broke Kait’s heart. She wanted to cup the girl’s smooth cheek and then give her a quick hug. Of course, she did not. “I want to talk about the gun. Is it Gabe’s?”

Sam gave her a disbelieving look. “No.”

Kait had a strong feeling that she was telling the truth. “Why did you have a gun in your room?”

Sam didn’t look up. “I had my reasons.”

“Sam,” Kait said gently. “What reason could you possibly have for having a gun?”

Sam stared at her feet, mute.

“Well, if it’s not Gabe’s, if you weren’t keeping it for him, you must have a reason for having a gun.”

“I do!” she cried defensively, more tears shimmering on her long lashes.

Kait couldn’t imagine what excuse she would come up with now. “Go on.”

Sam took a breath. “There are bad kids at school. From across the tracks. The factory side of town. They’re a gang. They give all the kids a hard time,” she said with stubborn determination. “Including me.”

Kait blinked. How much was the truth—and how much was fabrication? “So what is the gun for? Are you planning to use it on one of these boys?’

Sam shrugged. “They’re bullies. And mean. I need it to keep them away,” she said fiercely.

“And how does Gabe fit into this? Is he a part of this gang?”

“No!” Sam cried, startled. “He’s worked so hard to stay out of trouble, even though he lives right near them! They want him to join, but he won’t! They even beat him up—” She stopped.

Kait was getting the picture. Maybe Trev was right. Maybe the gun belonged to Gabe and he had it for a good reason—such as to protect himself—or maybe not. But clearly, Sam was protecting him.