Within Striking Distance (4 page)

Good, he thought. She couldn’t have told them about the investigation yet. He steered the conversation to the upcoming race, which elicited a spirited discussion between
the Daltons. Before they could wind down, he caught Becky’s gaze and nodded toward the garage exit. “I’d like to talk to you. Could I buy you lunch?”

They left the Daltons in the garage, but not before he got a head-to-toe scrutinizing from Shirley. Becky would have been only fifteen when her mother died. Had Shirley Dalton helped fill the void?

If so, he could understand Shirley’s scrutiny of him. She had to be curious why a young, beautiful woman like Becky would want anything to do with a man who was Jake’s age and who looked the way he did.

When they reached the infield restaurant, he saw they were in luck. The lineup was short so they only had to wait a few minutes. Their table turned out to be near the kitchen entrance and beside a family with three wriggling kids. Not the quietest spot for a conversation, but it would have to do. Once the waitress had given them their menus and turned to clean up a soda one of the kids had spilled, Jake got down to business.

“Miss Peters,” he began.

“Please, call me Becky,” she said.

He might as well. He’d been thinking of her that way for days. “Sure, Becky.”

“And do you mind if I call you Jake?”

“Whatever you like.”

“Thanks.” She slipped off her hat and set it on the empty chair beside her. “I’ve been waiting to hear from you, Jake. You said you’d phone me.”

He tried not to be distracted by her hair. He’d known what to expect when she pulled off her hat, yet he took a few seconds to admire it anyway. Even indoors, under artificial light, the color was rich honey, gleaming in lush, inviting waves. His fingers twitched. “I hope you understand that any progress I make has to be reported to my clients first.”

“Of course. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply you’re hiding anything, it’s just that…”

“You’re anxious for answers,” he finished for her.

“Yes!”

“I understand. You mentioned to me before that you’ve been waiting most of your life to find out who you are.”

“Can’t you give me a hint of what you’ve found?”

“Nothing definite yet. I’m working on some leads, but I’ve spent too many years in this business to make any assumptions before I have proof. That’s one of the reasons I wanted to talk to you.”

“Yes?”

“I should have mentioned this when we first met. Until I do have proof, I’d appreciate your discretion.”

“What do you mean?”

“So far, you’re the forty-third woman who has claimed she could be Gina Grosso. It would be too emotionally draining on Dean and Patsy if they allowed themselves to consider each one the real one.”

“I see that, but I’m still not sure I get your point.”

He gestured toward the numbers on her T-shirt. “For everyone’s sake, it would be best not to broadcast the fact that you believe you’re Gina.”

She sat back as if he’d shoved her. “I’m not broadcasting anything. This is just a shirt, that’s all. There are probably thousands like them at the track. Kent has plenty of fans.”

“You were hanging around near the Cargill-Grosso garage space.”

“What’s wrong with that? Do you think I’m some kind of stalker?”

“No. You have no record of that kind of behavior.”

“Thanks a lot.”

“I meant no offense, Becky. I consider it part of my job to protect my clients.”

“Fine. It if helps put your mind at ease, not counting you, the only two people I’ve spoken with about this are Tara Dalton and Nicole Foster. They’re my best friends, and they understand how much this means to me. They wouldn’t gossip. I’d trust them with my life.”

“Okay. That does ease my mind.”

She crossed her arms. Jake suspected the gesture was defensive and wasn’t meant as an attempt to cover up the numbers on her chest. He hated having made her feel that way. He wanted to reach across the table and take her hand. Instead, he curled his fingers around the head of his cane. “I’m also concerned about you, Becky.”

“Me? Why?”

“I realize that learning your identity is a very personal issue. If you allow yourself to believe you’re Gina and it turns out you’re not, this could be hard on your emotions, as well.”

She drew in her breath as if she were about to make a quick retort, then pressed her lips together and exhaled slowly through her nose. “I know that. I’ve already told myself the same thing more times than you can imagine.”

“Good.”

“But in the meantime, I intend to enjoy the possibility.”

“Becky…”

“Life would be pretty boring if we didn’t take chances, and I’m no coward. What’s the point of keeping your heart safe if it means it never gets used?”

He kept his expression impassive, even though he felt as if he’d been the one who had been shoved backward this time.

Yes, he believed in safety, but caution wasn’t the same as cowardice. A smart man learned from his mistakes. Jake hadn’t risked his heart in almost twenty years, and he didn’t intend to. That’s why he was so good at his job: he didn’t put his faith in anything unless he could prove it. Trust was a trap for the unwary, and love was the bait…

Whoa. Love? Where the heck had that come from? His mind was going way off topic here. He grabbed his menu.

“Is this the reason you asked me to lunch? To make sure I don’t stalk or otherwise embarrass your clients?”

No, the real reason I asked you to lunch is because you’re a fascinating woman who has haunted my thoughts since we met.

He concentrated on the list of burgers until he was sure the reply that had sprung to his mind remained unspoken. Okay. So he was attracted to her. It didn’t have to be a problem. There was nothing wrong with enjoying Becky’s company at lunch while he conducted business. This was a good opportunity to learn more—if he tossed a few morsels about his own life into the conversation, she’d be more likely to respond candidly about her own. Once they were done, he would get on with tracking down the leads Earl had given him.

Only this time, he’d make sure he didn’t stand around like a pathetic puppy as he watched Becky leave.

He decided to give her one part of the truth. “No, I asked you to lunch because I’m hungry.” He smiled crookedly. “And I don’t think all that straight on an empty stomach.”

B
ECKY KNEW
she was staring but couldn’t stop herself. Her brief annoyance with Jake was dissolving as quickly as it had arisen. This was the first time she had seen him smile, and it transformed his face. Even though it was only half a smile, a dimple appeared beside the lines that bracketed his mouth, just as she’d suspected it would. His gaze sparkled, giving her a glimpse of warmth that for some reason he seemed determined to wall up. Why hadn’t she noticed how thick his lashes were? They were darker brown than his hair, framing his eyes in a way that turned the light blue into a vibrant, captivating shade.

“What would you like?”

She would like to see a full smile, maybe hear a laugh…

She blinked, realizing the waitress had returned and stood beside their table with her pen poised above her order pad. Becky fumbled for the menu, then asked for a salad and a diet soda. Jake arched one eyebrow at her choice before he ordered a cheeseburger and fries.

“I’m not surprised,” he said after the waitress had left. “I had figured models ate nothing but rabbit food.”

“How did you know I’m…” She stopped. Of course, he was a detective. He would have easily learned what she did for a living. “Actually, I happen to like salads, but in my business I do have to be careful about my weight. You’re lucky that you can eat burgers and stay so, uh, trim.”

And
trim
was an inadequate word to describe Jake. He appeared to be in his mid-forties but he showed no sign of excess weight anywhere. He’d rolled his sleeves above his elbows, revealing forearms contoured with lean, ropy muscle. His shirt was pale blue chambray, washed often enough to have softened so the fabric molded his wide shoulders and broad chest. His stomach had the taut flatness that could only come from well-developed abs. The table hid the rest of him, but on the walk to the restaurant she had noticed how nicely his torso had angled into his slim waist and hips. Except for the left leg that he favored, he was in excellent shape.

Becky caught herself before she could begin staring again. Normally, she was as immune to perfect bodies as she was to perfect faces. She’d seen so many of them.

Still, Jake’s wasn’t perfect. Was that why she found him so interesting?

“I have a high metabolism,” he said. “Lucky genes, I guess.”

“Sounds like it.”

“When I was a kid I was like them,” he said, tipping his head toward the children at the neighboring table. Two were
standing on their seats while the third was smacking puddles of ketchup on her high chair tray. “I burned off whatever I ate.”

Becky watched the kids as the adults at the table tried to regain order, a difficult task for them since they were outnumbered. “Your parents must have had their hands full,” she said.

“Yeah. Never realized how hard a job keeping track of kids was until I had to do it.”

Her gaze darted to his hands. He didn’t wear a wedding ring, yet that didn’t necessarily mean he was single. She should have considered that possibility. She couldn’t be the only woman to have found Jake so…interesting. “Do you have children, Jake?”

“No, geez, I didn’t mean to give you the wrong idea. You’re looking at a confirmed bachelor. I meant my little brothers. I had to ride herd on them after our father died and our mom went back to work. They were a challenge.”

“That must have been difficult. How old were you?”

“Almost thirteen when it started. But I shouldn’t complain.” The dimple reappeared in his cheek. “Considering what a brat I had been, taking care of my brothers was justice.”

She tipped her head to one side, imagining Jake at thirteen. He must have been a responsible child for his age. Or maybe the circumstances had made him that way. She could readily picture him watching over his little brothers while trying to be the man of the house. He showed signs of having a protective streak now, that was for sure. “It probably helped that you had something to focus on that would keep you busy.”

“That’s right, you’d know how losing a parent can leave a big hole in your life,” he said. “When you lost your mother, you were only a few years older than I was when I lost my father.”

“Yes, I was fifteen.”

“Is that when you first thought of finding your birth parents?”

“No, it started earlier than that, when I found out I was adopted.”

“How did that happen?”

She hesitated. She didn’t normally talk about this to anyone, yet if it could help Jake’s investigation in any way, she would tell him whatever he wanted to know. “It was on my twelfth birthday,” she said. “My parents were having an argument about my party. My mother wanted my dad to stay and help but he needed to work. She used to work at the hospital as a receptionist before I came along but she quit her job in order to take care of me, and so money was tight. It escalated from there to other stuff. They didn’t realize I could hear them.”

Jake moved his hand on the table. It seemed for a moment as if he were about to reach for her, but he was only picking up his water glass. He took a long sip. “What happened?”

“I heard my father say he had believed adopting a child would have fixed their marriage, but instead I was causing them more arguments.”

“I’m sorry, Becky.”

I’m sorry, Becky. I didn’t see you standing there. Dad didn’t mean what he said.

Becky pressed her lips together, remembering her mother’s words. She’d forgotten nothing about that day, although she’d tried. Her parents had been almost as upset as she’d been when they realized she’d come back into the kitchen where they’d been arguing. She hadn’t wanted to—she preferred to stay as far away as possible during her parents’ frequent quarrels. Yet she’d needed some tape to repair a crepe paper streamer that had come loose, and they kept the tape in the kitchen junk drawer. At first her parents had tried to deny what she’d overheard, but their excuses had been transparent, even to a twelve-year-old. Eventually they’d had to admit the truth.

It had been her last birthday party. After that one, she’d never wanted to celebrate her birthday again.

“It’s okay,” she said finally. “I know they loved me. They just had problems with each other. I did what I could to help.”

“Sure, you would have thought their problems were your fault. That’s an awful burden for a kid.”

His insight was accurate. Learning she had been adopted hadn’t been half as hard as learning the reason behind it. She had become increasingly nervous with each of her parents’ quarrels. She’d felt it was her responsibility to keep the peace between them, which had been an impossible task, and she’d blamed herself when she’d failed.

“Was that when you decided to look for your birth parents?” he asked gently.