For Her Eyes Only. Tori CarringtonЧитать онлайн книгу.
smiled wryly. Awfully high price to pay to keep a little rain off one’s head. But she’d never looked back. Gerald had left Paris shortly after Lili was born. And Michelle and her daughter had forged a life of their own. A wildly variable life she loved. A laughter-filled life—shattered when Gerald had popped up two months ago.
She intended to get that life back.
A leisurely walk in the park with his daughter, he’d told Michelle. That’s all he wanted. He was only in town overnight. Could she please allow him a brief time alone with Lili?
She had. And had regretted the decision ever since.
She rifled through her purse, extracting a sheet of paper. After leaving Jake McCoy at the café, she’d paid a visit to the private detective’s office. Contrary to the information his secretary had given her that morning, John Bollatin had been in. And ten minutes later she’d left shaking with anger and clutching the address in her hand.
Canton, Ohio.
In a dusty corner of her mind, she remembered Gerald saying something about growing up in the Midwest. She had assumed it was Kansas. Going by the map, it should have been. And Bollatin had told her the same. But the address she held was in the northeastern corner of Ohio. An address for Gerald’s parents.
She took out the billfold holding her money from her purse. She sighed at the pitiful amount, then slid it back in. She supposed she could call her father again, plead with him to send her more. But by now Jacqueline had learned about his sending her the other money and would have convinced him that sending more would be irresponsible. After all, they had three additional children to think about. It was an argument that had worked especially well on her father throughout Michelle’s teenage years. And she had no doubt it was even more effective now, seeing as two of their children were still attending university.
No, she wouldn’t put her father in that position. She was the only one who understood how devastated he’d been after her mother’s death from breast cancer. It was as though a part, a very important part of him had died with her. Michelle took an odd sort of comfort in knowing that only she was aware of this. She didn’t want to cause him any more pain.
Besides, living with Jacqueline and her three brats was enough for any man to have to bear.
No, she would have to find her way on her own.
And it was time she started. Now.
THE CAR’S TIRES spit up the spotty gravel as Jake pulled into the motel’s parking lot. He put the gear in park, then shut off the engine. The sound of traffic zooming by on I-295 was deafening, making him wonder how anyone could sleep with all the racket. His apartment was located in Woodley Park, in the older section of D.C. Quiet, tree-lined. A bit of Norman Rockwell and old America in the middle of bustling downtown.
He stared at the closed door to Room Three. He couldn’t begin to explain to anyone what he was doing there, much less come up with a rational explanation for himself. He’d tried already. It hadn’t worked.
So what if Edgar was out of town until tomorrow, wrapping up a case in Georgia? Edgar was just as efficient as Jake was. And he had more years on the job. It didn’t matter if he got the case today, tomorrow or the next day. Edgar would find Michelle quicker than she could blink those latte-colored eyes.
He shifted uneasily on the leather seat. The feeling was foreign to him. Very little made him uncomfortable. But not knowing what deeds lurked in the shadows of Michelle Lambert’s past did.
At least that’s what he told himself.
He shifted again, recognizing the statement for the lie it was.
He was drawn to this woman. It was as simple…as complicated as that. She ignited something within him impossible to ignore and equally foolish to pursue. But pursuing it he was.
He scrubbed his face with his hands. He realized part of the reason he was intrigued by her was that her reason for being in the country had nothing to do with finding a better job than she could back home. Or because she was in search of the American dream. She wasn’t interested in any of that, as many foreign nationals were. She hadn’t applied for a green card. She’d merely wanted an extension on her visa. So she could find her daughter.
There. There it was again. That bottomless feeling in the pit of his stomach.
And the image of Michelle sitting in a rocking chair with a dark-haired child in her arms. Her thickly lashed eyes sparkling with warmth. Smiling.
He left out of that thought the possibility that he wouldn’t see her again. Despite that her beat-up Ford was parked a few yards away from him, she could have already skipped town. And knowing what she’d told Brad, he was convinced she would live up to her threat. There was a strength about her. A determination he couldn’t help but be fascinated with.
His hand automatically patted his empty jacket pocket. He sighed, then slipped his cell phone out of his other pocket. Within moments, his father answered his call.
“Yeah, Pops, David around?”
There was the sound of clinking silverware. Jake envisioned the kitchen of the house he’d grown up in, finding some comfort in the familiar. Of course, so many things had changed since Mitch’s wife, Liz, had moved in, but he chose to concentrate on those that had stayed the same.
“Hey, yourself, Jake,” Sean said with that ever-present smile that had been in his voice lately. “He is. But are you sure you want to talk to him? He’s mad as hell that you’re not here yet. Not that I can blame him.” There was a heartbeat of a pause, then his father’s voice lowered. “It’s not like you to be late for anything. Everything all right?”
“Just running a little behind.” Jake grimaced. There were some drawbacks to having a family who knew him so well. He didn’t doubt that if he were face-to-face with Sean, he wouldn’t have gotten away with such a vague statement. “Any luck finding my identification?”
“Nope. Turned the place upside down earlier. Not even a fiber. Wait. Here comes David now.”
Movement outside the car caught Jake’s attention. Michelle was coming out of her room, a backpack slung over her shoulder.
“This better be good.” David’s voice filtered over the line.
Jake pressed the disconnect button then opened the car door.
MICHELLE SLUNG her pack onto the passenger’s seat. This was it. All she had left was an address. Nothing more. And there were no guarantees that this address would be any better than the ones the detective had gotten before. She took one last look at the closed door to Room Three. But what choice did she have? She would not, could not go home without Lili.
“Going somewhere?”
Michelle turned at the sound of the familiar voice. Given how little he’d said to her earlier at the café, she didn’t know why it should be familiar. It was more her body’s reaction to the deep timbre than anything that told her Jake McCoy had followed her to her motel.
The funny thing was, she wasn’t surprised by his appearance—maybe because she couldn’t seem to get him out of her mind since bumping into him in the parking lot of the INS building.
She gripped the top of the door with her left hand. “Yes. I suppose I am.”
He came to a stop before her. His back straight. His hair impeccably neat. His suit clean and pressed. She felt the sudden inexplicable desire to muss him all up.
“You wouldn’t happen to be going to the airport now, would you?” he asked.
Her fingers tightened on the hard metal of the door. “Airport?”
“Yes. You know, for your flight home.” He patted the breast of his jacket the same way he had at the café, then grimaced, as if not finding something that was usually there.
“No. No, I’m not going to the airport.” She tucked her hair behind