L.A.P.D. Special Investigations Series, Boxed Set: The Deceived, The Taken & The Silent (15 page)

“Did the men who talked to your mother-in-law identify themselves?”

She shook her head. “I asked the nurse, and she said they looked official, so she didn’t think to ask.”

“And they specifically inquired about your husband, Robert Sullivan?”

She nodded. “About him and me and you.”  Her brows pinched in the middle. “And you know nothing about that?”

Frowning himself, he shook his head.

“Well, that’s weird, isn’t it? I thought they were people you work with, otherwise why ask about you and where you went?”

“No one but my partner knows where I am.”

“If it’s not your people, who would it be? You think someone else is looking for the same guy we are?”

It was a reasonable conclusion. The question was ‘why?’ A man who’d deserted his family, left the country and started a new life had something big to hide. And if what Jillian believed was true—if someone else was using her dead husband’s identity—he had to be running from something big, something that could cost him his life.

“Yeah,” Adam said, still frowning. “If someone else is looking for our guy, it could mean this little trip might get even more dangerous than I thought.” He shoved a hand through his hair.

“And you think I’d better go home, right?”

She’d pre-empted his thoughts. He nodded, for all the good it would do.

“And you know how I feel about that, too.”

“Unfortunately, yes.” And he didn’t care. “C’mon. Let’s check out that address.”

He pulled the map the receptionist had given him from his back pocket, leaned down and laid it on the hood to plot their course. “Okay, here’s the plan. We’ll check out the residence. If we have no luck there, we’ll go that-a-way.” He pointed southeast toward the ocean. “We should be able to get to the village where the boy is staying within a couple of hours. If we strike out there, too, we’ll have plenty of time to make it back here before dark.”

And she could go home.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

HAPPY TO HEAR ADAM had given up the idea of sending her back to San José, Jillian slid into the passenger seat and they headed out.

She glanced at the map again and then at the street signs. They should be close. “Turn right in two blocks.” Her muscles tensed. She hoped the man named Jack Sullivan was there and that would be the end of it. She’d prove he was not her husband and they could both go home.

But a part of her felt like a traitor. Shouldn’t she want to find Rob alive…even if he he’d deserted her and Chloe? Shouldn’t she be wishing he had amnesia and that maybe seeing her would shock him back to reality? Still, she couldn’t imagine. Just seeing his photo had been creepy enough.

Beyond that, if the man was there, what was she going to say? Would she know immediately if he was or wasn’t Rob? Every time she’d thought about it, she’d put it out of her head. She realized now that she had, not because she truly didn’t believe the man was an imposter, but because she didn’t want to face the possibility it could turn out the other way.

And would she know immediately? There had to be recognizable differences—the voice, the eyes, the mannerisms. But what if she couldn’t tell? What then? What would she do if she believed it was Rob? Would she tell Adam so he could arrest him, or do whatever he intended to do? And what would she do if she was—?

She couldn’t even finish formulating the question that weighed the most heavily on her mind. She’d know soon enough.

Once they turned the next corner, the architecture of the houses began to change, and with each block they passed, the homes were spaced farther and farther apart, becoming more expansive, more elegant.

Finally they were out of town and decided that the home they were looking for was located at the far end of the road. The homes now were looking more like estates, and when they arrived at the address on the scrap of paper she held in her hand, her eyes widened in amazement.

Large arching gates led into what looked like a plantation of some kind. “This can’t be it, can it?”

“Sure. An American with money can live a life of luxury here.”

“You think this…man has a lot of money?”

“If I didn’t before, I do now.”

She let out a huge sigh of relief. “Well, that eases my mind.”

He gave her a quizzical look.

“It can’t be Rob,” she explained. “How would he get enough money to build or buy something like this?”

Adam didn’t answer and just kept on driving right up the curved driveway to the front of the place.

Sweat trickled down the inside of her arms. Was it possible that there were two men with the same name and that they looked identical? No, that was crazy, Jillian decided.

But if the worst was true and Rob had somehow come into a fortune, he would never live in a place like this and let his son be shipped off to some friend of his wife’s. But if this Jack Sullivan was the same one who was married to Corita Sullivan, wouldn’t he know that his wife was ill and dying? Wouldn’t he know she was dead and then have gone after his son? Nothing made sense.

“You coming?”

Adam was already out of the car. “Oh, sure. I was just…thinking.”

“You want to stay in the car? Maybe it’s best.”

“No, I don’t think so.” She needed to do this. She’d come all this way to do this very thing and she wasn’t going to have Adam fronting for her. She had to face this herself.

What she learned today could change her whole life. Dread weighing her down, she climbed out of the car and walked beside Adam up the polished marble steps.

The place was surrounded by flowers in fuschia, crimson, buttercup yellow, and lavender, none of which she recognized except those that looked like orchids. Flowers loved the humidity, but the cloying scent made her throat close. A wave of nausea washed over her, but it was more likely from anxiety than the aroma.

Adam rang the bell.

Her hands trembled and her legs felt like wet sponges. She wanted to hang on to Adam, to absorb some of his strength and his objectivity and his ability not to feel anything. She wanted to simply do what needed to be done.

But she wasn’t Adam, and her insides roiled and churned. God, she hoped she didn’t puke right there on the steps.

One of the massive double doors swung open.

A middle-aged black woman in a brightly flowered dress stood in the entry. “May I help you?” Her voice had a singsong Caribbean lilt.

Words froze in Jillian’s throat.

“Hi, we’re here to see Jack,” Adam said calmly, as if he was an old friend.

The woman’s expression was blank for a moment, then she frowned. “I’m sorry, but that’s not possible.”

Not possible? What did that mean? Was he there or not? “We have to see him,” Jillian shot back.

“What she means,” Adam quickly covered, “is that Jack is expecting us. I hope he didn’t forget about it.”

“Please give me a minute and I’ll be right back.” The woman shut the door in their faces, leaving them standing on the marble steps listening to the rush of a waterfall in the garden next to the front of the house.

Looking up at Adam, Jillian said, “Do you think he’s in there?”

“We’ll find out soon enough.”

His eyes softened when he looked at her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her so that her back was to him and began gently kneading the tight muscles in her neck.

“One step at a time,” he said. “Nothing is going to change while we wait.”

The tension in her neck and shoulders melted away, and even in her present anxious state, his hands felt as if they belonged on her. If finding this man wasn’t so important, she might wish the woman didn’t come back. Or that she’d at least take enough time to allow Jillian to enjoy the pleasure of Adam’s strong hands touching her in a way she hadn’t been touched for a long time.

If ever.

Rob had been attentive and caring, but he’d never sparked the kind of desire she was feeling at this moment. The kind that made her knees melt and left her craving to fulfill some very basic needs.

But that was silly. She was being silly. The sooner she got her answers, the sooner they’d both be out of there and they’d go back to their respective lives. She just had to be certain this man was the imposter she hoped he was. Because without that certainty, she’d always be in a state of flux, wondering, questioning.

The door clicked open again, but only a few inches this time. “I can’t help you,” the woman said. “Mr. Sullivan doesn’t live here.”

Jillian glanced at Adam, then back at the woman again. “This is the address we were given and the number is listed for Jack Sullivan.”

The woman gave them a blank look, shook her head and said, “I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry? That was it?

“How long has he been gone?” Adam asked.

“He means, did he leave a forwarding address?” Jillian added. “We’re here about his son.”

The woman’s expression softened. “Oh, I wish I could help, but I really don’t know anything. I just started working here a few weeks ago.”

“Is there someone else who might know?” Jillian pressed, noticing a young girl hanging about close by. “It’s very important.”

Just then the door was pulled out of the woman’s hand. She looked behind her and then stepped away. A tall gray-haired man replaced her. “I purchased the property two months ago,” he said in perfect English. “The transaction was through a real estate company. I didn’t ask where the previous owner had gone, and I don’t know anything about him. I’m sorry, but we can’t help you.”

He raised his chin, then closed the door with a thunk of finality.

“I guess that’s our cue to leave,” Jillian said, her gut aching with disappointment. They were no closer than before they found the address, except that they knew he probably wasn’t in Mirador. She looked at Adam. His mouth curled into a snarl.

“Asshole.”

“Well, at least we know he’s been gone from here for a while,” she said, calming herself. “More than two months. Right?”

Adam scowled. “We don’t know squat. Sullivan could’ve been having breakfast in the kitchen, for all we know.”

Jillian started down the steps, and a moment later, Adam caught up with her.

“I bet we could get more information from the realtor,” she said.

It took Adam a moment, but he finally said, “I guess. If the guy is telling the truth, the agent might know more…where Sullivan went. Or the bank that conducted the transaction. The’d have to have something.”

“That’ll take a long time, won’t it? I mean, we don’t know the company or the bank.” Her spirits took a nose-dive. More and more it was looking like she would have to go home without the information she came for. “But I guess we’re no worse off than we were before.”

“I would’ve liked to end it right here,” he said.

“No more than me. I feel as if I’m in some kind of suspended state, unable to get on with anything until I know.” Though oddly, she’d felt an immense sense of relief when the man they were looking for hadn’t been there. “So now what?”

At the car, Adam opened the door and said, “Get in.”

She climbed inside and when he positioned himself behind the wheel, she asked, “Where are we going?”

He started the vehicle. “I’m going to find Jack Sullivan, and you’re going back to San José.”

Then just as Adam began to pull away, Jillian saw the young girl she’d seen in the house coming toward her.

“Wait.” Jillian grabbed Adam’s arm for him to stop. She rolled down her window.

Reaching the car, the girl shoved a piece of paper at Jillian, then turned and ran off. Jillian stared at the markings on the paper. It was a crudely drawn map and some writing. In Spanish.

She handed it to Adam. Watching him read, she saw his eyes light up. “What does it say? What’s the map for?”

Adam was silent for a moment. Then he said, “When he left here, our guy was on his way to Cabacera to find his son.”

“When?” Adrenaline surged through her veins.

“Doesn’t say. Could’ve been two months ago, could’ve been yesterday.”

“So, let’s go.”

His expression was uncertain, as if wondering that very thing himself.

“We’re wasting time,” she said.

His mouth compressed as if weighing his options. A second later, he said,“Yeah. Let’s go.” He put the car in gear and squealed away from the house. “Get out the map and double-check the location of the village, with what the girl wrote down.”

Gladly, she did as he asked and gave directions for the next three turns. Before long, the road narrowed, this time to little more than a single lane. As they pressed on, the foliage around them grew thick and tangled, alive and eager to swallow them up, car and all. The rain forest seemed a primal entity, a living, breathing thing, and she was awed and fascinated by it.

She’d once seen a television program on the destruction of the rain forests around the world, and there’d been dissension between those who wanted more development and those concerned about the environment. What a pity if the forests were destroyed here. Still, with industry came opportunity. A tough choice to make.

She’d also seen a program on tourists getting kidnapped in foreign countries and being held for ransom.

“Let me know when you get hungry,” Adam said out of the blue about fifteen minutes into the trip.

“Why? Are we going to stop at the nearest fast-food place for a hamburger? Have a picnic with the snakes and poison dart frogs?”

He gave a hearty laugh. “I think we’re stuck with the leftovers I got at our swank digs in Mirador.”

She liked the sound of his laughter. It had an honest ring about it, genuine. True.

“It wasn’t the Ritz, that’s for sure,” Jillian said, laughing, too, but she remembered the man rummaging through their things. “I still find it odd that the intruder didn’t take anything.”

“If he’d ripped off your passport, you wouldn’t be able to get home.”

“What do you suppose he was looking for?”

“Who knows?” Adam said loosely, but she knew he thought there was a helluva lot more going on here than appeared on the surface. Every time she mentioned it, he got quiet, and she had the feeling he knew something she didn’t. So far, she hadn’t pushed, but she was tired of waiting for him to bless her with information. She needed answers.

He jerked the steering wheel to the side to avoid another humongous hole.

“Well, how about hazarding a guess?” She waited a second, then added, “I think he wanted to know who we are and why we’re here.”

“Oh, you do, do you?” He swerved again. “And why do you think anyone would care who we are?”

She pondered for another moment. “Because we’re looking for a guy who’s taken someone else’s identity. If he’d do that, it’s probably not the only disreputable thing he’s done, and someone else is looking for him, too. Or…maybe he’s caught wind of it. Maybe he has people who keep an eye out for strangers who might come looking for him because of his activities. If he could afford that home back there, he surely can afford a few security guards.”