Sophie felt the sincerity behind Mrs. Garrison’s words.
“And the criminal part?” Cain frowned at his mother.
“Two federal marshals showed up in Promise and asked Sheriff Dalton, not Roy Dalton but his daddy, James, the whereabouts of this man. Everyone knows federal marshals don’t look for law-abiding citizens. They look for criminals.”
“A criminal?” Sophie could barely squeeze the words from her throat. Her breathing tightened and she found herself fighting for breath.
Dad? Her dad? Could it be?
“When the news started flying around town, Elizabeth ran away. Old man Weatherly called out the biggest manhunt for the two of them that the town had ever seen. Searched every house, every building, every inch on the mountains and through the woods. Put Elizabeth’s picture on the news. Even posted a reward for any information helping to find her.”
Martha’s fingers trembled as they smoothed the fabric of her skirt. She chewed her lip with such force, Sophie expected to see blood. “No one heard from Elizabeth again.” She tilted her head and smiled lovingly at Sophie. “Until the day I received that birth announcement.” She leaned forward and gently stroked Sophie’s hand. “She was so proud of you…and so, so happy.” She leaned back in her chair. “You really are the spitting image of her, you know.” She sighed and lifted the yellowed card in her fingers. “When I received this, I knew we were still best friends. I believed I’d hear from her again soon. But I never did.”
Sophie’s insides churned with mixed emotions. The woman sitting in front of her had known her mother since birth, had been best friends with her, had cried for her when she left, had missed her enough to keep her one and only card with all her family treasures. She wondered what it must be like to have a best friend. To have someone to share secrets with, laugh with, trust. Someone to whisper to about those special feelings of first love. Her mother may have died young but, based on everything she’d been told about her, she’d had a rich, wonderful life. And, although happy for her mother, Sophie couldn’t help but wish she’d had the opportunity to form some of those relationships herself.
Cain stood and offered a hand to Sophie, helping her to her feet. “Thanks, Mom. I really appreciate it.”
“Yes, Mrs. Garrison. Thank you. I’m sorry about the way I reacted earlier.”
“Sophie, I would have reacted the exact same way. I just wish I could have been more helpful.”
“We’ve got to go now, Mom. I’ve got a few leads to follow up and I have to get Sophie home before I do.”
“Are you staying at the Weatherly place?”
Sophie nodded.
“Please visit again and join me for tea. I’ll tell you quite a few stories about the shenanigans your mother and I pulled on your grandfather out there.”
Sophie smiled at the woman. “I’d like that very much. Thank you.”
When they reached the front door, they could hear Cain’s mother behind them. “It started with a
B,
or maybe a
G.
”
Cain turned. “Mom?”
“Ohh, I’m just so mad at myself. I know that name’s on the tip of my tongue and I just can’t catch it.” Her eyes lit with excitement and she snapped her fingers. “I know. I’m going to have your father bring down my old high school boxes from the attic. I kept a journal back then. I bet I wrote his name down in one of the journals.”
“Do you want me to go up and get them?”
“No. No.” She waved Cain away. “Your father and I will do it together. It won’t hurt us to sit in the attic and go down memory lane together. Good for the soul.” She winked at Cain and waved on.
“Call me, Mom, if you find the name.”
“Of course.”
They walked to the car in silence. Cain held open the passenger door and Sophie slid inside. He settled behind the steering wheel and neither said a word until he’d pulled out into traffic.
“Don’t take me home.”
Cain lifted an eyebrow.
“I’m going to your office with you. I’m good with computers. I’ll help you do your research.”
“Sophie, I think you…”
“Don’t argue with me, Cain. I’m going with you.”
Cain sighed and turned his attention back to the road. He knew better than to argue with an angry woman.
Cain stopped abruptly in the hallway. He held his finger to his lips for silence and pushed Sophie gently against the wall. He eased his Glock out of the back of his belt and gestured for her to remain where she was. Stealthily, he moved toward his office door.
He wrapped the fingers of his left hand around the door-knob and was just about to turn it when the door flew open and it was all he could do not to fall flat on his face.
“Tell me you have a permit for that gun, son.” Sheriff Dalton stood in the doorway, both fists on his hips.
Cain slid the gun back into his belt and straightened up. “Of course, I have a permit. Tell
me
that you know breaking and entering is a crime.”
Sheriff Dalton snorted. “Ain’t a crime, boy, if the waiting room door to your office is open.” He stood back and gestured both of them inside. “Better talk to that sister of yours if you want to keep people out of the office when you’re away. I saw her hightailing it to the diner right before I walked in. Obviously, she didn’t lock up.”
Cain made a mental note to do exactly that.
“What can I do for you, Sheriff?” Cain asked. He sat down in one of the leather chairs in front of his desk. Sophie claimed the other chair, which left the sheriff standing in the doorway.
“You got it backward. It’s what I can do for you.” The large man crossed to Cain’s desk, retrieved a folder and handed it to Sophie.
“Your father’s real name is Dominic Gimmelli, sole heir of Vincent Gimmelli, the head of a Mafia crime family doing business in Maryland with heavy New York ties. He married your mother, Elizabeth Weatherly, six years before you were born. A copy of their marriage certificate is inside.”
Sophie paled but otherwise showed no reaction to the sheriff’s words. She opened the folder and pulled out the document he referred to, as well as dozens of local newspaper clippings.
“Your parents were front-page news in Promise for weeks. First, because Elizabeth ran off with your dad. And then the papers had a field day when they discovered just who your daddy was.”
Tears glistened in Sophie’s eyes and her fingers trembled as she gingerly lifted one clipping after another.
“Do you know where her father is now, Sheriff?” Cain tried unsuccessfully to hide the hopeful note in his own voice.
“No. But I wish I did. I’ve got a few questions I’d like to ask him.”
Sophie squared her shoulders and, when she spoke, her voice was calm and collected. “Thank you, Sheriff Dalton. I appreciate your finding this information for me.”
The sheriff stared at her long and hard. “I assumed your father died years ago. Seems to me a lot of other people thought so, too. Obviously, I was wrong. I’m hoping your recent troubles have nothing to do with your father. But, make no mistake, little lady, I won’t be a happy camper if you’ve brought organized crime into my town.”
Without a word, he turned and stormed out of the office.
Sophie’s eyes looked bleak as she met Cain’s gaze. “Well, at least now I know who I really am.” Her grin was bittersweet. “A Mafia princess.”
ELEVEN
T
he past two days had been filled with nothing but dead ends and disappointments. Sophie, each hand holding a cup of hot coffee, pushed the porch door open with her hip. She sat down on the top step, nodded to Cain, who was rummaging through files in a box in his trunk, and placed his cup on the step beside her.
The two of them had researched every false identity they’d pulled from her father’s tool box, only to discover he’d only used the IDs just as long as their stay in those towns.
The biggest lead had been the old newspaper clippings Sheriff Dalton had given them. Her father had turned out to be the son of a notorious capo of a Maryland crime family. From everything they’d read in the papers, there had been no evidence implicating her father in the family business. His only tie to the Mob seemed to be his lineage.
They assumed Elizabeth had met her dad at the local college. Dominic Gimmelli had been a visiting art instructor for a summer session. Records showed Elizabeth had signed up for one of his courses.
No one knew what the federal marshals wanted with Dominic. Cain hadn’t even been able to prove federal marshals had ever shown up in town at all. But rumor of their arrival had been the catalyst that had caused Elizabeth and Dominic to run off together. Shortly after their marriage, all records of Dominic and Elizabeth Gimmelli had vanished.
Sophia Joy Gimmelli. The name slid off her tongue like something lifted from an Italian film. Daughter of Elizabeth Weatherly and Dominic Gimmelli. Sophie hoped speaking the words aloud would make them feel real. It didn’t. In her heart she was Sophia Joy Clarkston, that’s who she would always be. Someday she’d wake up and find she’d had the nightmare to end all nightmares. Someday.
The sound of a trunk lid slamming shut pulled her thoughts back to the present. She smiled and watched Cain approach. Today his limp was barely discernible.
He plopped down on the step beside her and raised his cup in a faux toast. “Thanks, I needed this.”
“Long night last night?”
“Yeah. I had to finish the paperwork on two other cases and then Holly called. One of her cooks was out sick and she commandeered my services.”
“Somehow I can’t picture you in an apron and a chef’s hat.”
“Ahh, but you seem to enjoy the results of my labor. If I recall, you had seconds of my pot roast the other night.”
Sophie laughed. “True, which reminds me, you have to give me your recipe.”
Cain placed a hand over his heart and feigned shock. “No way are you getting the recipe out of me. A master chef never reveals his secret ingredients.”
“No way, huh?” Sophie leaned closer and teasingly batted her eyelashes at him. When her skin brushed against his, a shiver danced along her spine. Her heart fluttered in her chest. Her breathing quickened.
Instead of drawing back, she leaned closer, mesmerized by these tantalizing feelings and unable to turn away. She whispered, her voice soft, tender, “No way at all?”
Her unexpected flirting surprised them both and the air crackled with awareness. The darkened intensity in Cain’s eyes took her breath away. Sophie panicked and started to move away.
“Don’t.” Cain caught her forearm and held her close. The hint of his aftershave teased her; the warmth of his breath fanned her face.
“Sophie?”
His voice held a depth she’d never heard before, an unspoken question that hung in the air between them. His lips paused mere inches from hers. Her eyes locked with his.
Cain lowered his head and his lips captured hers…gently, softly and then with a promise of something more.
Sophie kissed back, her pulse racing, her blood rushing through her body like white-water rapids, as if she were on the adventure of her life.
Just as abruptly as it had begun, the moment ended. Cain had pulled away. Seconds of silence beat between them. Sophie placed her fingertips against her lips, not knowing if she was sorry the kiss had ended or thankful one of the two of them had come to their senses.
“Sophie, I’m—”
She shot a look at him. “Don’t you dare insult me with an apology.”
He grinned that cocky, lopsided grin she’d learned to love and held his hands up defensively. “No, ma’am. Wouldn’t think of it.”
He turned sideways on the step, subtly putting some distance between them, and leaned his back against the porch post. “I’m not sorry I kissed you. I’ve been wondering what your lips were like from the first moment you walked into my office.” His brown eyes caught and held hers. “And they’re just as sweet as I imagined they’d be.”
An embarrassed flush rushed through her body and Sophie knew the telltale coloring of her cheeks and throat exposed her true feelings.
“But…” He lifted his coffee cup, took a sip, and then said, “It was selfish…and unprofessional…and I won’t let it happen again.”
She nodded, keeping her eyes turned away. “Sounds like a plan…a good one if you ask me.”
Cain chuckled but refrained from saying anything more.
Sophie couldn’t believe what she had done. She’d never openly flirted with anyone before. Sure, she’d been kissed a few times. But she’d never experienced a kiss so powerful, so full of emotion, so confusing.
After a few moments of companionable silence, Sophie decided that if she’d dared to be flirtatious, maybe she could be bold as well. She had nothing left to lose. She’d already made a fool of herself once today. And there were things she wanted to know. Questions that burned to be asked. She turned her attention to Cain. “I noticed you’re barely limping today.”
“Yeah.” He glanced at his leg. “I haven’t been sliding across asphalt for a few days or sitting with it cramped in a car for hours. When I treat it right, it returns the favor.”
Sophie smiled and then pressed on with what she really wanted to know. “How did you get hurt?”
“On the job.” His clipped words let her know he didn’t intend to discuss it further, which piqued her curiosity even more.
He knew everything there was to know about her and she knew so little about him. He was a professional and good at his job. She’d met his family, seen him interact with them and with other people in the town, knew he was kind, intelligent, compassionate. But that was surface stuff, the kinds of things he’d reveal to anyone. The deeper things—the secret, painful things that happen to us and make us the people we become—he managed to keep those things hidden.
She knew it was none of her business. She didn’t have a right to question him about his personal life. But she couldn’t help herself. She was drawn to this man on a deep, emotional level. She found herself experiencing feelings she had never had before for anyone. The more she knew the more she wanted to know. So she pushed.
“How long were you a cop?”