Perfect Victim, The (20 page)

Before he could stop himself, Randall was on his feet. He reached for her and made her face him. "It doesn't mean anything." It was suddenly very important to him to make
her believe the news didn't change who she was
or lessen his respect for her in any way.

She r
a
ised dark, shimmering eyes to his. "Where did I come from? Who am I?"

"You're the same person you've always been. Those two people who raised you are the ones who shaped your life and made you who you are." Though he believed the words
,
he realized he had ventured into an area where even the doctors disagreed on whether traits were inherited or learned.

"Nothing that happens today or tomorrow can change who you are
,
who you've always been."

Realizing he was gripping her wrists, he released her
.
The sudden loss of contact made him acutely aware of how warm her skin was, how badly he'd wanted to touch her. She was standing so close he could smell her hair, that exotic mix of citrus and musk that made him dizzy every time he was near her
.
It was a crazy thought, but he suddenly wanted to bury his hands in that dark
,
wild hair, draw her to him, and kiss away the pain in her eyes
.

Unaware of the war raging inside him
,
Addison swept a trembling hand across her forehead and let out a shaky breath. "Where does this leave us
,
for God's sake? How does this tie in with what happened to her? With what happened to Jim?"

"Jim
—
this lawyer—do you know if he handled your adoption?" he asked
.

"I don
'
t know. There was no mention of an attorney on any of the documents I've seen
.
"

"If he did, then his murder ties in with your adoption."

"But why would he keep something like that from me when he knew I was looking?"

"
I think
.
the answer to that question is locked away in a file sealed by adoption and confidentiality laws. A file someone doesn
'
t want you to find
.
" Randall studied her face
,
liking what he saw
,
wanting badly to touch her, but knowing it would only lead to disaster
.
"A file that contains infor
mation someone is willing to go to great lengths to keep from coming to light."

"Information worth killing two innocent people for?" she asked.

"Maybe. It looks that way."

"Who?"

He shrugged. "That's what we need to find out."

She pressed her hand against her stomach, "My biological father?"

"That was my initial reaction. We have to take the possibility seriously." The thought of someone wanting to hurt her sent a quiver through his gut. For the first time, he wondered just how wise it was for her to continue this search. She was a decent person who still believed people were basically good. He didn't want to see that belief tarnished. He didn't want to see her hurt. He sure as hell didn't want anything to do with the lofty task of keeping her safe.

The notion that he was starting to care about what happened to her made him want to pull back and recoup. Even as he felt himself spiraling toward her, drawn by the most fundamental of needs, another side of him struggled for distance. Caring for a woman in Denver was dangerous business when he would be moving back to D.C. in a few short weeks. Especially when her eyes knocked him for a loop every time she looked at him.

Randall had always prided himself .on his ability to keep his male instincts in check. So what if he was attracted to her? He could handle his hormones. He wasn't the kind of man a woman like Addison Fox would consider a relationship with, anyway. He didn't have relationships. He didn't get emotionally involved. Certainly not with a woman who did most of her thinking with her heart.

Unless, of course, it was just sex.

"Sit down," he said. “We need to talk."

Her eyes swept to his, and she studied him from beneath long lashes. "Look, Talbot, if you're trying to bow out gracefully, now is the time. I don't need you to finish this."

He guided her to the loveseat
.
"I hate to undermine that unscrupulous image you've drawn of me, but I'm not going anywhere until this is finished."

Lowering herself to the cushion, she drew her legs beneath her and curled like a cat
.
"I can
'
t afford you indefinitely
.
"

"I'll work for expenses
.
" The words tumbled out before he could stop them. Damaging words his brother would probably kill him for
l
ater
.
But it didn
'
t take a rocket scientist to figure out that money had absolutely nothing to do with his reasons for wanting to help her.

"Can you find the person responsible for this?" she asked
.

"I can try. But I'll need your cooperation
.
Do you think you can handle that?"

"Coming from you
,
I'm sure that's a trick question."

"You
'
ll have to agree to my terms
."

"
What terms?
"

Randall liked the stubborn set of her mouth and the way she raised her chin every time he pissed her off
.
He wondered if she could kiss as well as she argued
.

Forci
n
g his mind back to the busines
s
at hand
,
he said
,
"Look, Addison, I'm not sure what you've stumbled into, but it's serious and apparently dangerous. Not only for you, but for the people around you and anyone
i
nvolved in your adoption. I want you to understand
t
hat fully before we delve any more deeply into this."

She seemed to sink more deeply into the cushions. Reaching for a pillow
,
she hugged it against her
.
"What terms, Talbot?
"

He studied the shadows of fatigue marring the porcelain skin beneath her eyes. She didn't look as though she
'
d slept much in the last couple of days
.
He wondered how well she would hold up if things got really rough
.
"Until I figure out what's going on, I don't want you to be alone. I don
'
t want you staying here alone.
"

"You
'
re ser
i
ous?
"

He'd expected an argument, and he was prepared
.
"You can stay with somebody until this is over."

"Just in case you need a reminder, I'm missing some vital components of the family structure. No siblings. No parents."

"What about friends?" Discomfort flickered in her eyes, and for the first time he realized how very alone she was—and how much that disturbed her.

"My best friend is sixty-two years old with a daughter about to give birth to twins," she said. "Albeit she keeps a double-barrel shotgun next to her bed, I can't ask her to baby-sit me."

"A shotgun?" Had-the situation not been so dire, he would have laughed.

"She's from Missouri,” she added, as if every grandmother from Missouri wielded enough lead and gunpowder to blast a man in half. "Besides, I plan on taking an active role in this investigation."

"Active role, huh?" His hackles rose. "We're not talking about a purse snatching. We're talking about murder. An active role might just get you killed.”

She met his glare in kind. "You're working for me, remember?"

"I guess that settles it."

''I guess it does."

"You'll have to stay with me."

Indignation flashed in her eyes. "You're pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?"

"You have no idea." He admired her tenacity. It didn't help matters that she was so damn good to look at. He wondered if she had any idea what she was up against or how drastically this could change her life. "Jack and I can take rotating shifts. Those are my terms."

Ignoring the protest in her eyes, he looked around, taking in the room. The apartment possessed the bold character of the fifties modernized by clean, contemporary lines and a touch of feminine clutter. The red plaid loveseat and sofa were separated by an antique chest that served as a coffee table. Above the fireplace, a Matisse abstract flared in red and black and hues of gray. A slightly worn wool rug soft
ened the hardwood floors and gave the entire room a sense of warmth and comfort
.

The apartment spoke volumes about her. From the galley style kitchen with its incessant aromas of coffee and spices to the bathroom with its pink heart soaps and frilly hand towels. It was her home. Her refuge from the world
.

A place where she was no longer safe.

"I don't want you at the coffee shop, either
.
" He wondered how in the hell he was going to work the case and keep his eye on her at the same time. He and Jack would just have to work it out
.

"I've got a business to run," she said levelly. "I can't just close the shop. I need to be at the shop."

"You'll be
closed for the next couple of days, anyway."

"Look, I'm not going to put my life on hold for a suspicion that's unfounded at this point," she tossed back. "We don't even know for sure if this is all connected, much less that he's coming after me."

"He's already come after you at the shop. Beckett is dead. Bernstein is dead. Come on, Ace. You're smart enough to know when you're out of your league."

Her chin went up, but he knew she was about to concede. "I hate this."

"So do I
.
We've got to deal with it
.
"

"Dammit
.
" She released a frustrated breath
.
"I'll keep the shop closed for a few days."

"Good girl"