“Get out,” she ordered.
His smile disappeared in a flash. The cold look that replaced it had her shivering inside and wondering if his earlier smile had been a ruse to make her let down her guard. It would certainly explain how he’d gotten past Freddie’s prickly exterior. She couldn’t believe it when she’d found her friend drinking with Jake as if they were old buddies.
“Get out, or what?” he said. “You’ll call the police? I know I can get service here. I did earlier, down in your office, when I was surfing the internet.” He pulled his cell phone out of his jeans pocket and held it out to her. “Be my guest. After they get here, I’ll tell them to search their databases for Faye Star. How long do you think it will take them to figure out that Faye Star doesn’t exist? And how long before they get curious to find out why she doesn’t exist?”
The blood rushed from her face, leaving her cold. “That’s crazy.”
“Is it? I can’t find your name in any official databases, not here in Florida.” He arched a brow. “Of course, I haven’t checked Alabama yet. Maybe I need to surf the web a little more.”
Her fingernails bit into her palms. “What do you want from me?”
He stepped closer, crowding her back against the dresser. “I want the truth.”
Faye reached her right hand behind her, quietly pulling one of the drawers open a crack to grab the knife inside. “What truth?” she said, stalling for time. “You’re looking for the guy who drove that car, right? Well, I don’t know where he is. That’s the truth.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t care.” She fumbled behind her in the drawer.
Jake cocked his head. “What’s wrong, Faye? Can’t find your knife?”
She stilled and dropped her hand to her side. “What did you do, search my apartment before I got here?”
“You’d better believe I did. Self-preservation. I’ve learned never to underestimate you. It was easy getting Freddie to let me up here. I just told her I needed to use the bathroom.”
They faced each other like two boxing opponents, each waiting for the other to make the first move. But Faye knew that fighting him wasn’t an option, not without a weapon and a clear avenue of escape. Even if she managed to drop him to the floor, she wouldn’t have any way to get past him and out the door. The bedroom was too small. All he’d have to do was reach out and grab her as she jumped over him to get away. She chewed her bottom lip in indecision.
Jake’s anger seemed to evaporate as he looked down at her. “I know you’re hiding from something, or someone. That’s easy to figure out. But I’m not here to expose your secrets or dig into your past. I’m here for one reason, to find Calvin Gillette. And I believe you’re the key to finding him. If you’ll talk to me, and help me, I promise I won’t do anything that will jeopardize your life here. I won’t tell anyone where you are.” He smoothed her hair out of her eyes, then placed his hand on her shoulder and gently squeezed. “Help me, Faye. Please.”
It was so tempting to believe him, to believe the gentleness of his touch, the plaintive appeal in his words. She would love to trust him, ease her own burden by letting him share it. She needed to find Calvin, too. Was it possible Jake wasn’t really a threat? That would mean she didn’t have to leave Mystic Glades, leave her friends.
“Who are you working for?” she asked. “What does he want with...Gillette?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Does he want to harm him?”
Jake’s jaw tightened. “I’m not in the business of finding people and turning them over to someone who’s going to hurt them. The answer to that insulting question is a definite ‘no.’”
His defensiveness seemed genuine. Maybe the client who’d hired Jake was a friend of Calvin’s trying to find him for some reason she didn’t know about. Maybe Calvin had overreacted and had gone on the run thinking he was in trouble when he really wasn’t.
“What makes you think I know this Gillette guy? Or that I can help you find him?” she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
He dropped his hand to his side. For some reason, the disappointment on his face sent a stab of guilt straight to her heart.
“I found the backpack. You were searching for him this morning, just like last night. Can we skip past the lies now?”
“What makes you think it’s my backpack?”
His mouth tightened into a firm line.
“Okay, okay.” There was no point in denying this particular accusation. If he’d searched her apartment for weapons then he’d probably noticed a few other things, such as that she had the same style of backpack in her closet in many different colors to match her other outfits. And that the bottled water and power bars in the purple backpack were the same brands as the ones in her pantry. She tried to bluff her way into a new explanation.
“I admit it. The backpack is mine. But only because I found that car a few days ago and realized the driver was probably hurt and wandering the woods and needed help. I’ve been searching for him, to help him, not because I know him.”
“I think you can come up with a better lie than that.”
“I’m not lying.”
“Right. You were concerned for a stranger, so concerned you’ve spent the past few days searching for him. But you weren’t concerned enough to call the police or to tell any of your friends here in town so they could help you find him. Try again.”
She crossed her arms. “Why are you trying to find this guy? Who hired you?”
He seemed to consider that question, then nodded as if he’d decided it was okay to tell her. “My client is Quinn Fugate. He’s Calvin’s brother, different fathers, different last names. He only found out recently that they were related and is trying to connect with him. He’d tracked Calvin down through another investigator to Naples. But a friend of Calvin’s reported him missing before Quinn could hop on a plane and go see him. The police gave up searching for Calvin after the first day. That’s why Quinn hired me. And that’s why I need to find Gillette before he dies out in the swamp. I’m here to help Gillette. That’s all. Nothing more.”
Hope had her staring into his eyes, trying to gauge the truthfulness of his words. He looked as if he was telling the truth. His story sounded plausible. And the name Quinn Fugate meant nothing to her, which was a relief. It was possible Jake was telling the truth. She honestly didn’t know if Calvin had a brother or not. Based on their shared past, it was entirely possible. And right now, there was no way to ask him. But wouldn’t it be wonderful if Calvin had a family he’d never known about, a family that wanted him after he’d been alone for so long?
Was Jake telling the truth? He certainly looked sincere, and he sounded sincere. What if he was lying? What if he wanted to use her to find Calvin? She could try to shake him, continue her search alone. But that wouldn’t stop him. He’d be out searching, too. Maybe he’d even bring others to help. That would make it even worse for Calvin, to have more people looking for him.
So what were her choices? Search alone—assuming she could manage to get away without Jake following her. Or combine their resources, search together. That way she could keep an eye on him. Wasn’t that better than knowing he was out there somewhere, but not knowing where? What was that saying, keep your friends close, your enemies closer?
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