Daddy Devastating (4 page)

“Make your call to Burke Dennison,” Russ conceded, but he shot her another warning glare. “But put it on speaker and be very careful about what you say.”

She pressed some buttons on the cell, waited and stared hard at him.

“Burke, it’s Julia Howell,” she said, to the person who answered. She placed her purse on the console between them. “I need a favor, but this has to stay between us.”

“Absolutely.” The man’s voice was clear over the speaker. “What is it?”

“Russell Gentry might be a government employee. Could you check?”

“Contact Silas Duran at the FBI,” Russ said, in a loud-enough voice for Burke to hear. “He’ll brief you, then debrief you, and if you give the information you learn about me to anyone but Julia Howell, expect a full-scale investigation that will land your butt and Sentron in scalding hot water. Got that, Dennison?”

There was a pause, or more likely a hesitation from Dennison. “Give me a minute.” Finally, he said “I’ll call you back.”

“Start driving to your hotel,” Russ told Julia. He reached over to turn the key in the ignition. Not the brightest idea, since she batted his hand away and in doing so, his arm grazed her breast.

That earned him a glare. And it would have been better if she’d let out an outraged gasp, rather than that breathy feminine sound similar to the one she’d made after he kissed her.

That kiss had been a stupid idea, too.

Even though Julia Howell was perhaps a liar and a boatload of trouble, she was attractive, and damn it, his body wouldn’t let him forget that. She was making him hot. Well, she and the Texas heat. He could feel the sweat trickling down his back. Julia wasn’t immune to it, either, because she blotted the perspiration from her face.

Since they appeared to be staying put for a while, Russ got started on more damage control. “Who knew that you picked up Lissa’s baby from the San Antonio Maternity Hospital?”

She pulled back her shoulders. “Why?”

Man, she doesn’t give an inch.
“Don’t make everything hard. Just answer the question. Who knew?”

Her shoulders went back even more, and she continued to glare at him. “SAPD, of course. And several members of the medical staff.”

Russ groaned. “Reporters?”

“No. I paid a lot of money to keep the details of Lissa’s story quiet. Her death was initially reported, and her name was listed in the newspapers, but I asked everyone to hold off mentioning the baby.”

“And they cooperated?” he asked, stunned.

“Yes. I told them I didn’t want you to learn you were a father by hearing it on the news. I wanted to tell you in person.”

Well that was something, at least. Half the state didn’t know the truth about the baby, and that meant Russ could slant the info in his favor.

Russ took out his own phone to make another call to FBI headquarters in San Antonio. He asked to speak to a computer tech, and it didn’t take long for Denny Lord to come on the line. “I need you to doctor some files for Julia Elise Howell.”

“What?” she snarled.

Russ ignored her. “People will be digging into her background, and I need you to plant information that she recently gave birth to a baby girl. Keep all details vague, as if she tried to keep the pregnancy hush-hush. Doctor a photo if necessary. Oh, and let me know if anyone does any deep searches on her.”

“What was that about?” she demanded, the moment he was off the phone.

“It was about making the story I told in the alley mesh with what Milo’s people will learn about you.” He only hoped it was enough. “By the way, it’s not a good idea for us to be sitting in this parking lot.”

“And I don’t think it’s a good idea to be driving to a hotel with you. I don’t trust you,” Julia snapped.

“I don’t trust you, either, since I think you’re trying to scam me. Or kill me from dehydration. Turn on the AC.”

“If I do that, it’ll only encourage you to stay. I don’t want you to stay. I want you to get out.” She blotted her upper lip again.

“Well, I’m staying until I get some clarification about why you chose me for this…well, whatever the hell it is.”

However, Russ rethought that. Julia had money, so why would she come after him with this ridiculous daddy claim? “But right now the scam is on the back burner. First we deal with the fallout from the meeting in the alley.”

“No. First we deal with your identity.”

“I’m an FBI agent,” Russ repeated, “and you’re messing with an investigation that’s taken me a long time to put together.” And it could all be in the toilet, thanks to a prissy San Antonio heiress and her baby charades.

“Does your investigation have to do with black-market infants?” she asked.

He laughed, but not with humor. The woman had nerve…or something. “I’m not discussing one detail of my investigation with you. You’ve already overheard way too much.”

“Or maybe I’ve overheard the dealings of two criminals meeting in an alley to discuss selling a baby.” She swiveled around and faced him. “Do you have a badge?”

It took him a moment to answer, because when she swiveled, her dress slid up a little, and he got a visual reminder of her great thighs.

“Not with me. It’s generally not a good idea to carry a badge while undercover. Bad guys tend to kill you if they find out you’re an FBI agent. Imagine that.” He didn’t bother to tone down the sarcasm.

With a mighty effort, he forced his attention off her thighs.

She tipped her head to the ceiling and groaned softly. Finally she started the car. She turned on the AC, but didn’t put the car into gear. “If you’re lying to me, somehow I will make you pay.”

Russ leaned into the AC vent and let the cold air spill over him. “Ditto, darlin’. Except, there is no
if
in what you’re saying. It’s a lie. I didn’t sleep with your cousin and I’m not her baby’s father.”

Julia put her face closer to her vent, as well. “The DNA says otherwise.”

Yeah? It did? Well, it did if she was telling the truth about that. Of course, that went back to motive. Why would she lie about something like that? He wasn’t rich, and he had no prospects of getting rich anytime soon.

And then it hit him.

Russ snapped back from the AC vent. “You said something about using my photo for facial recognition software. Where is that picture?”

“In my purse.” She tipped her head toward it.

He couldn’t get to it fast enough. Russ rifled through the gold bag and came up with three photos. One was of the baby, which he’d already seen. The other was a young twenty-something brunette who resembled Julia. Cousin Lissa, no doubt. But it was the final picture that grabbed his attention and sucker-punched him.

Suddenly, all of this became crystal clear.

“Let me guess,” Russ said. Though he wondered how he could speak with his jaw suddenly so tight. “Lissa called her baby’s daddy ‘RJ’?”

She shrugged. “Yes. So?”

Russ started to groan, curse and hit his fist against the console, but he knew none of those things would undo what had apparently happened nine months ago.

“RJ, as in Russell James,” Julia interjected. “As in
you.
”

“As in
Robert Jason
Gentry.” Those words had been even harder to speak than the others, and despite all the anger and frustration, he couldn’t help but feel the pain, too. It’d been months, and it was still there. Fresh and raw.

Russ figured it always would be.

“Who’s Robert Jason?” Julia asked, suddenly looking as dumbfounded as Russ felt.

He reached in his pocket and took out his wallet so he could extract the only photo he carried. It wasn’t standard procedure to carry personal photos while in a deep cover situation, but Russ hadn’t had the heart to take it out. He did now, and passed it to Julia.

She studied it, but Russ already knew every little detail. It’d been taken nearly two years ago, on a rare fishing trip they’d managed to schedule.

It was the last time he’d seen RJ.

“You have a twin brother,” Julia mumbled.

“Identical twin.” Which explained the match in the DNA. Identical twins didn’t have the same fingerprints, but the standard DNA test couldn’t distinguish one from the other.

She shook her head. “But your brother didn’t come up during Sentron’s search.”

“He wouldn’t have. RJ is…
was
black ops for the CIA. It would have taken more than Sentron or a traffic camera to find anything on him. All of his real records were sealed years ago.”

Her gaze slashed to his.
“Was?”

“Was,”
Russ repeated. And he repeated it again to give himself time to clear the lump in his throat. “He was killed on assignment nine months ago, probably just days after he met your cousin. He’s the reason I was in San Antonio at that bank. I was the beneficiary of his estate, and I had some paperwork to sign.”

“He’s dead,” Julia mumbled. But she continued to volley glances between the photo and him. “And you really are who you said you are—Russell Gentry?”

“Russ,” he said, automatically making the correction. Russell had been his dad’s name, and he wasn’t comfortable calling himself that.

The answer had no sooner left his mouth when her cell rang, and in the dimly lit car, he saw Sentron Securities flash on her caller ID screen.

Russ merely motioned for her to answer it.

“Burke,” she said, placing the call on speaker. “You have something for me?”

“Julia, he’s telling you the truth. Russell Gentry is an FBI agent.”

She pulled in a hard breath. “Thank you, Burke.”

“I’m sorry about this, Julia. We dug as deep as we could go, and we didn’t find his FBI records.”

Russ cut off what sounded like just the beginning of an apologetic explanation. “Silas Duran will clear up loose ends with you,” Russ informed the security specialist, and he reached over, took her phone and clicked it off.

“I’m sorry—” Julia began.

But he cut her off, too. “Sorry won’t help. The only thing that will help is damage control, and that’s about to get started.”

Julia nodded and handed him back the picture. “What can I do?”

“For now, you can go back to your hotel, take the baby and return to San Antonio. Did you fly or drive here?”

“I drove. Emily’s only two weeks old. She’s too young to fly.”

Well, in some ways that made it easier. No trip to and from the airport, but that meant she had to go about a hundred and fifty miles to get home safely.

“You have some kind of security system, I assume?” he asked.

Another nod, but her eyes widened with alarm. “You think Emily could be in danger?”

She shoved the car in gear and darted out of the parking lot. The tires squealed and kicked up bits of rock that spattered against the car. She didn’t stop there. She grabbed her cell and made another call.

“I need to speak to the nanny. Don’t worry. I won’t mention you,” she explained. “Zoey,” she said, when the nanny answered. “I need you to make sure the door is locked. Don’t let anyone in until I get there.”

Julia ended the call, but she continued to mumble to herself.

Russ actually welcomed this high level of concern. It might get her to cooperate. “The baby’s probably not in danger…
probably,
” he emphasized. “But I don’t want to take any chances.” He carefully placed the photo back in his wallet and put it in his pocket. “After all, she’s my niece.”

Russ mentally repeated that. He was an uncle.

Later, he’d come to terms with that and the fact that RJ had fathered a child he’d never seen, never even known about. But that had to wait.

“I have a security system,” Julia explained. “Supposedly, it’s the best money can buy. And I can hire bodyguards. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep Emily safe.”

Russ nodded. “I’ll arrange to have an agent or a cop follow you home. And once I’ve wrapped up things down here, I’ll contact you.”

She had a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel. “Milo can’t hurt her.”

She was taking his warning very seriously, but there was no reason for Milo to go after Emily.

Because she looked ready to lose it, Russ reached over and skimmed his hand down her arm. Why, he didn’t know. After everything she’d just learned about him, his touch probably wasn’t very comforting.

“How badly did I mess up your investigation?” Julia asked. She stopped when the light turned red and drummed her fingers impatiently until it turned green. She gunned the engine.

“I can salvage it,” he assured her.

But Russ wasn’t certain of that at all. Still, he had no choice but to try.

Julia pulled to a quick stop in the parking lot of the Wainwright Hotel. Even though it had three floors, it was a fairly small building and only had about two dozen rooms. He’d already guessed that that was where she’d be staying, since it was the nicest hotel in a town that was seriously lacking nice things. The outskirts of the town were okay—more family oriented; and more likely than not, if you were in downtown San Saba, you were looking for trouble.

“Let me call my partner, Silas Duran,” he told her. “He can make the arrangements for a security escort, and I can wait with you until everything is in place, so you can leave.”

“You trust this Silas?” she asked.

Russ nearly gave her an automatic yes—but stopped. He settled for a nod.

Silas was a fellow agent and probably well trained. But Russ didn’t like that Silas had only been on this case for a couple of days. He also didn’t like that Silas might have pulled strings to get the assignment. That’s the way it seemed to Russ, anyway. But that was a problem for him to mull over when he had more time.

She opened her door and looked at him. She nibbled lightly on her bottom lip, caught it between her teeth for several seconds. “I suppose you want to see Emily?”

He did. But the timing was all wrong.

Or was it?

Russ didn’t know how long it would take to get this investigation back on track, and he couldn’t leave San Saba until Milo put him in touch with the head honcho—the slimeball only identified as Z. Russ wanted to find Z and lock him away for a long, long time for what he’d done. If it took him weeks or longer to do that, it would be weeks before he first got to see his niece.