Maybe he needed to find out more about both of them.
Reid hadn’t felt so eager to see someone in ages. That sense of anticipation disturbed him, made him pause. He felt almost optimistic, and that wasn’t a feeling he knew how to handle. For eleven months he’d wanted to check out of his life, but tonight he found himself looking forward instead of back. He wanted to think of Jenna as only a story, but he couldn’t forget the way she tasted, the feel of her breasts in his hands, the softness of her body under his. He’d had to take a long, cold shower after she left his hotel room. He was involved with her, whether he liked it or not—whether
she
liked it or not. And he was worried that the real problem was that he liked it too much.
Jenna wore her long hair down tonight. It was dark and tangled from the ocean breeze, and he imagined himself running his fingers through it, cupping her face with his hands, staring into those big, beautiful, haunted blue eyes, sliding his mouth against hers, taking them both to another place. He
wanted to chase the loneliness and fear out of her eyes, to see her smile, hear the catch of her breath when his lips touched hers. He wanted to unleash the passion she kept so rigidly under control while pretending to be an ordinary suburban mom.
Jenna had gotten into his head, under his skin. She’d woken him up, and there was no going back. So he walked across the sand and took a seat next to her on the blanket.
Jenna gave him a wary smile. “Took you long enough. You’ve been watching me for a while. Second thoughts?”
“A few,” he admitted.
“Lexie and I are not your problem. You can still walk away if you want to.”
Her offer only reminded him of how generous she was. Terrified, in danger, and completely on her own, she was still offering him a way out. “I don’t want to. I’m in.”
Jenna brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She wore faded blue jeans, a knit shirt that clung to her curves, and a soft sweater. Her feet were bare, and Reid smiled at the red polish on her toenails. He had a feeling he was catching another glimpse of the real Jenna. She must have caught him looking, because she quickly dug her toes into the nearby sand.
“Don’t worry. The red polish won’t give you away—Juliette.” He deliberately used her real name.
“Shh,” she said quickly, looking around to be sure no one was eavesdropping.
“Relax. No one can hear us.” Lexie was playing tag several yards away with her friends. “You seem more like a Jenna to me,” he mused.
“I’m starting to feel like a Jenna. Juliette fit the old me—classical, romantic, a little removed from mundane reality. But that’s certainly not my life anymore. How did you find out my name?”
“The Internet. It wasn’t difficult once you gave me Brad and Kelly’s names.” He spoke quietly. They were separated from the crowd, but he didn’t want his words to carry. “The facts you have correlate with the police reports. It still surprises me that Brad has managed to keep Lexie’s whereabouts a secret. He must be concerned about keeping up the pretense indefinitely. He has friends, neighbors, people who will begin to question where his daughter is.”
“He put his house up for sale,” Jenna said. “My contact keeps me up to date on his movements.”
“That would certainly eliminate questions from the neighbors.”
“Maybe that’s the reason he did it, but it bothers me. He’s putting some plan into motion, and we would be safer if I knew what it was.”
Reid didn’t tell her not to worry. Her brother-in-law was a dangerous man, and Jenna needed to feel the danger. She couldn’t relax and let down her guard. She had too much on the line.
“I have some things to tell you,” he said briskly.
Her mouth curved down as she sighed. “Am I going to like them?”
“No.”
“You’re always so honest. Don’t you know there is nothing wrong with a little sugar-coating?”
“There is when your life is at stake.”
She turned to face him. “Okay. Go ahead.”
Reid pulled out the email Pete had sent him. Dusk was turning to night, but there was enough light left for Jenna to see the photo. “Do you recognize this guy?”
Jenna stared at the picture for a long minute. “I don’t think so. Should I?”
“His name is Brad Winters.”
“That’s not the man my sister was married to.”
“I know. But he has the same Social Security number, went to the same school, and worked at the same places that Brad claimed on his application to the police academy.”
“I don’t understand, Reid.”
“Your Brad stole this guy’s identity,” he said bluntly.
Her eyes widened in disbelief. “That can’t be true. Brad Winters is a common name. This has to be a mistake.”
“It’s not. I asked a PI friend of mine to do a rush background check on your brother-in-law.” He took out the other image he’d printed, the one of her brother-in-law and the carjacking story. In the photo, Brad had put a hand up over his face. Now Reid knew why: he’d been trying to avoid getting his picture in the newspaper. “This photo was taken about three weeks before Kelly died. Your brother-in-law was a local hero.”
“Kelly never told me about this,” she said, taking the paper from his hand.
“But your sister
did
tell you that someone had recently come to her with information about Brad.”
“I don’t see the connection.”
“The timing fits with when this article appeared. There is a possibility that this newspaper photo tipped someone off. They recognized your brother-in-law, and knew he wasn’t Brad Winters.”
“So who is he?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“This just gets worse and worse.” Jenna’s gaze moved toward Lexie, who was making a sand castle with her friend. “He’s her father, Reid. What am I ever going to tell her? How will I make this right for her?”
He heard the anguish in her voice and knew that there was no way to make it right. “You’ll help her deal with the truth when it’s time.”
“I can’t allow Lexie to go back to him, Reid. I have to find a way to prove that Brad murdered Kelly.” Her chin came up.
Jenna was a fighter. Her determination was probably what had gotten her to the top of the classical music world. Even though she’d collapsed under that pressure, it just made her more human, more likeable. Because while she’d fallen, she’d also gotten up again—and maybe that was all that mattered. Maybe that’s what he was supposed to do. Get back up and fight, instead of letting the weight of his guilt keep him down.
“Lexie will never be able to handle the fact that
her father killed her mother,” Jenna continued. “She’ll always be scarred.”
“What have you told her so far?”
“That her father is sick and needs to get help, and he has to be by himself to do that. Kelly must have prepared Lexie for an escape, because she knew that she was going to be called Lexie and that her mom was going to be Jenna.” She blinked away the moisture in her eyes. “Kelly was supposed to be Jenna, not me. I don’t know why she picked the name. But using it makes me feel close to her, like it’s a bridge between us. It’s as if both of us died, and we became one person—Jenna. Does that sound crazy?”
“No, it doesn’t. I think your sister would be very proud of you.”
“I hope so. Is there any way that Brad will find out your detective is checking up on him, and that he’ll be able to trace your inquiry back here?”
“I used a middleman. I covered my tracks, Jenna.”
She nodded, relieved. “So if Brad isn’t really Brad, then who is he?”
Reid shrugged. “Someone who wanted to escape from his past.”
“What about the real Brad Winters? If Kelly’s Brad was using someone else’s Social Security number, then wouldn’t the other guy have found out at some point in the last eight to ten years?”
“I’m hoping to get more information, but there’s a good chance that he’s not alive.”
Her face paled. “You think that Brad didn’t just steal this man’s life—he took it?”
“I could be wrong.”
“Or you’re not. Kelly must have found out. That’s why she started making an escape plan.”
“It’s possible that the other Brad isn’t dead, that he was the one who showed up and told Kelly what was going on. Or it could be someone else entirely,” he said. “It could be someone who knows who Brad really is. We have no idea what kind of past your brother-in-law was running from. If someone saw his photo in the newspaper and had something on him, they might have considered going to Kelly and not to Brad. We’ll be able to figure it out when we get more pieces of the puzzle.”
She stared at him for a long moment. “Is that it?”
“I have a few more questions for you.”
“Of course you do,” she said with a sigh.
“Where does your father think you are? Rehab?”
A gleam of disappointment flashed in her eyes. “My father knows I don’t do drugs. He thinks I’m resting at a resort in the Caribbean. A friend of mine has a house on Antigua.”
Her answer reminded him that they came from very different worlds. “A male friend?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Is that important?”
“Just wondering why you didn’t call anyone to help you. A beautiful, celebrated pianist, and you don’t have a boyfriend?”
“I never had time for serious relationships. The piano came first.” She ran her hand through the sand, letting the grains fall through her fingers. “Music was
my sole purpose and reason for being, from the time I was three years old until two months ago.”
“You said you had a career crisis. What happened?”
“I collapsed on the stage. I don’t know why. Exhaustion, depression, anxiety, panic…Pick one or all of the above. I wasn’t sleeping well or eating right. I was on a grueling tour, different cities across Europe every other week. The pressure had been building for years; the endless quest for perfection, the constant falling short. I was never as good as I was supposed to be. The performances took a lot out of me. I felt tremendous anxiety every time I went onstage. Finally I snapped. I took the coward’s way out. I collapsed so I wouldn’t have to tell my father I was done.”
He was impressed with her self-analysis, but also reminded of how much she expected of herself. “Is that the only reason you didn’t walk away—fear of how your father would react?”
“No. There was also the music. I love it. It sweeps me away, transports me to another place. It’s a release, a joy. It’s who I am. Unfortunately, the flip side of the music is the business: the pressures of performance, and the criticism of the critics, the conductors, the audience, and my father. I needed a rest, but there was never time to take one. My father insisted that I had to keep going while I was popular, that I couldn’t let people forget me, that if I didn’t tour, if I didn’t stay up with the best, I’d be done. I didn’t want
to disappoint him. I was an extension of his success. He made me.”
“No, he didn’t,” Reid argued. “You made yourself.”
“He was my teacher.”
“You were the one who played the notes. That was
your
accomplishment.”
“In my head I know that, but it’s far more complicated where my heart is concerned,” she said, gazing into his eyes. “After my mother died, my father was the only parent I had. He saw my mother in me, and I felt her presence when I played. Her voice ran through me. If I didn’t play, I thought I’d lose that connection with her. Then I’d lose him. I’d be alone.” She turned to stare at the bonfire, the light of the flames dancing off her face. “The really sad thing is that I was never afraid I’d lose Kelly. I took her presence for granted, assuming she’d always be there. I was so wrong. So wrong about a lot of things.”
Reid had to fight the urge to put his arms around her. He knew what it felt like to be alone, really alone. He’d spent years trying to be part of families that didn’t want him. In the end, it had been easier to stay separate, to stop risking disappointment. But Jenna had known love, and she still had two important people in her life. “You’ll see your father again. He might be angry, but I’m betting he’ll be back in your life. And you have Lexie, too.”
“You’re right. You’re also too easy to talk to,” she said with a regretful smile. “For the last two months, I’ve kept everyone at arm’s length. Then you show up, and I spill my guts.”
He smiled back at her. “I’m a good listener. Your father had to have heard that your sister was murdered. Did he go to the funeral? Did he get in touch with you? Even if the press thought you were in rehab, he knew that wasn’t the case.”
“I called my father from a pay phone the day after Kelly was killed. He’d already heard the news, but couldn’t get out of his commitments to attend the funeral. He wanted me to go to the service and represent the family, and to keep him advised of any developments in the search for her killer. At first I wasn’t going to call him, but I worried that if I dropped completely out of sight, he might start looking for me, so I left him a few messages, calling at times I knew he wouldn’t be available. I used pay phones so no one could trace the calls.”
Reid shook his head in disgust. “Your father sounds like a complete ass. His daughter was murdered. How could he not fly home and get justice for her? How could he not be concerned about his granddaughter?”
Jenna frowned. “My father let Kelly go a long time ago. She had no musical talent, so she was left behind with nannies or housekeepers while he took me around the world. He didn’t even go to Kelly’s wedding. He’s seen Lexie maybe twice in her life.”
“He really
is
an ass.”
“He’s a sophisticated, intelligent, accomplished man, but you’re right: he’s also an ass. Where Kelly was concerned, I wasn’t much better. I let her go, too. It sounds crazy, because I had so much more
than she did, but I was jealous of her. She was free of my father. She didn’t have his expectations hanging over her head. She didn’t have to constantly try to please him; she could do whatever she wanted. I’m sure Kelly saw it differently. She must have felt abandoned by both of us.”
Jenna looked at him with guilt in her eyes. “You don’t know how much I regret the distance between my sister and me. If I had been paying attention to Kelly, I might have seen that she was in trouble. Maybe she would have come to me earlier, when I could have done something to help her. Maybe, maybe, maybe,” she said, her voice rising with each frustrated word. “I wish I could go back in time to change things.”