“There’s nowhere for you to go. Think this through.”

Tommy underestimated her need to escape. Cassi shrugged, appearing flippant, but in truth she was stalling, waiting for the strength to return to her limbs. She was starting to think that’s why he’d tackled her then stayed on top of her, to weaken her. Well, if it was, it had worked and it’d also destroyed her hope that he’d stayed put simply because he liked being there. There’s a blow to the ol’ ego. She flexed her fingers and gave him a hard look of her own.

“Sorry, Tommy. I can’t. There’s no way I can make you understand, and that’s a tragedy. But I’m not going anywhere with you. That man killed my mother and I’m going to prove it somehow. It’s the only chance I have of making things right. So if you want to take me in…you’ll have to kill me first.”

Dear Reader,

This book kicks off an exciting new series entitled Mama Jo’s Boys. Mama Jo, a foster mother with a heart big enough to fit three boys who aren’t of her blood but are hers just the same, connects each book, and she’s a wonderful character. We could all benefit from having a “Mama Jo” in our lives.

The first book features Thomas Bristol and Cassi Nolan, true soul mates who found each other in childhood, but along the way to adulthood, lost sight of what was important. I confess, I love stories like this. I think there is something magical and pure about first love, and those who are lucky enough to hold on to that love are truly blessed.

The second book features Christian Holt and Skye D’Lane, two people in the Big Apple trying to make things right in their world and finding love along the way.

The trilogy ends with Owen Garrett and Piper Sunday and I think you’re going to find these two quite entertaining as they fight their attraction to one another while they uncover a twenty-five-year-old secret within their California town.

In all, Mama Jo’s Boys are hot, sexy, strong men with eyes only for the one woman who can drive them crazy but at the same time, make them fall madly in love.

Hearing from readers is one of my greatest joys (aside from really good chocolate) so don’t be shy. Feel free to drop me a line at my website www.kimberlyvanmeter.com or through snail mail: P.O. Box 2210, Oakdale, CA 95361.

Happy reading,

Kimberly Van Meter

The Past Between Us
Kimberly Van Meter

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Kimberly Van Meter wrote her first book at age sixteen and finally achieved publication in December 2006. She writes for Harlequin Superromance and Silhouette Romantic Suspense. She and her husband of seventeen years have three children, three cats and always a houseful of friends, family and fun.

To fellow Silhouette author Susan Crosby, a woman of quiet wisdom and gentle humor. Not only is she an inspiration and a joy, she reminds me with the patience of someone who has already “been there, done that” what remains important, whether it’s advice applied to career or personal issues. I don’t know what I’d do without our bi-monthly chats!

To my family, for—always, always, always—being my biggest fans! From yelling the loudest at my various graduations to telling every single person they come into contact with about my books… I would be nothing without you!

Lastly, to my editor, Johanna, and agent, Pam—two ladies whose vision and insight never fail to steer me in the right direction. Thank you!

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

EPILOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

WARM MOISTURE TRICKLED between the valley of her breasts, which were bound tightly by the purple sports bra she’d found at a little thrift store on Third. Her muscles were loose and slack from the workout, and she mentally congratulated herself for managing to convince a class of twenty upwardly mobile New York executive-types that she’d been teaching yoga for the past six years when in fact, she’d only just assumed this identity in the past month. She dabbed a thin towel at her hairline and slung it around her neck. This was by far the easiest identity she’d ever taken on and she actually liked being Trinity Moon, the earthy yoga instructor who believed in peace and love, vegan food and karma.

She really liked the karma part. If karma really worked, she enjoyed imagining that her stepfather was destined to be reincarnated as a dung beetle. Although, that was probably unfair to all the industrious dung beetles on the earth who were not nearly as odious as Lionel Vissher.

Unpleasant memories blotted out her previous feel-good, exercise-induced endorphins and she exhaled softly. Home was so far away, not so much geographically but definitely as a possibility; Lionel had made certain that Cassi could never go home as long as he was alive.

A bitter draft danced along her spine and she knew someone had just walked into the yoga studio from outside where the temperatures were hovering in the forties. Why did people always pop in for information when the class was clearly already finished? “Sorry but you missed the class. Schedule’s on the door if you want to—”

“Hello, Cassi.”

The breath wilted in her lungs, threatening to wheeze out in a painful gasp if she wasn’t careful. She turned slowly to face the man whose voice she hadn’t heard for years yet remembered with a ferocity that shocked her.

“Nobody calls me that anymore,” she said, her gaze sliding over him in a quick but wary appraisal. Time had been good to him. Not that he hadn’t started out with an advantage in that department, but his boyish cuteness in high school had hardened into the kind of take-a-girl’s-breath-away attractive that often found its way onto the movie screen. Tommy had that quality in spades.

Except Tommy Bristol had always hated the attention his good looks had brought his way and never would’ve tolerated fame well. Unlike Cassi, who had basked in any light that had shone her way. She blinked away the unexpected tears, unsure where they originated from but felt certain they could gain her no ground with the man assessing her as intently as she had assessed him.

“How’d you find me?” she asked. No one in her current circles knew her true name.

He shrugged, but a hard light entered his eyes that she didn’t care for.

“Been a while…” She let the rest of her sentence trail.

“That it has,” he agreed easily. “You’ve been busy.”

She cut him a short glance. “A girl has to make a living.”

“Not typically on the backs of others,” he returned mildly.

Put that way, it sounded so sordid, so mean. She supposed to him it probably looked like that. A minor ache bloomed somewhere in her chest for the dry, dusty remains of whatever had once softened him toward her. Would it change things if he knew how her life had spiraled to the place she was mired in now? Likely not, given the cool chill coming from those ocean-blue eyes so like her own. In school, kids had snickered that they were probably related. She cocked her head and wondered what he saw when he looked at her. A thief? A liar? Perhaps both. But she was certain when he looked at her he didn’t see a long-lost friend. Yes, there it was again, that ache, ghosting across her chest, squeezing painfully. Why did it have to be him? Anyone but him.

“Not everything is as it seems,” she said, surprising herself at the effort. She shouldn’t have wasted her time.

“And most of the time…it is,” he countered.

“Not all of it is true,” she murmured, glancing away so as not to see the derision in the cruel twist of his lips.

He sighed and the sound pulled her attention. He almost looked…regretful. But it was gone in one laborious heartbeat. “Cassi…you’re under arrest. You had to know this was coming sooner or later.”

She refused to answer. It was probably rhetorical, anyway. “And you’re going to be the one to bring me in, huh?”

“That’s right.”

Keep thinking that, Tommy boy. He was blocking the front exit. She couldn’t count on outrunning him to the back exit. Besides, the latch sometimes stuck and she figured if luck had been on her side, she wouldn’t be facing down Thomas Bristol at that moment so she wasn’t about to lean on luck for favors. That left one way out. Not the way she preferred, but there wasn’t much she could do about that.

“What if I’m innocent?” she asked, testing the waters one last time.

“Then a court of law will decide that. Get your stuff. We have a hard night of driving ahead of us and I want to get moving.”

She took in his stance, the way it seemed he might know her next move before she made it, and she knew no matter their history, he wasn’t going to be swayed by the pull of old times.

This man was going to arrest her.

TRINITY MOON—AKA CASSANDRA Amelia Nolan—still had the delicate features of a fallen angel, though where laughter and mischief had once lit up her face, shadows now lurked in her eyes. Eyes that had once captivated his soul and made his world spin out of control with wanting something so badly. It was hard to believe he was staring at the woman who had once been his friend, confidante and the secret love of his life until reality intruded and sent them running away from one another.

“Are you going to tell me how you found me or should I guess? As far as I know I didn’t leave a trail of bread crumbs,” she quipped, interrupting his thoughts.

“Wasn’t easy. You’re a slippery one,” he said. He left out the part where he’d been tracking her movements for about two months. Just as he’d been getting ready to pounce, she’d gotten squirrelly and taken off again. She never used the same name twice but she left a path of troubled and perplexed victims who were lighter in the pocketbook for making her acquaintance. He still had a hard time believing the evidence but it was all there in black-and-white. His childhood friend had become the worst kind of thief—the kind who wormed her way into the warm, trusting bosom of strangers and then split with their hard-earned cash.

It was near unfathomable but plain despicable. And he was going to bring her in.

She must’ve read it in his eyes for she gestured. “Can I get a quick shower?” she asked. “It’ll just take a minute. I promise.”

The answer should’ve been a short and succinct no. It was no worry of his if he hauled her back to West Virginia stinking of sweat but it seemed a small thing she was asking. The room was warm even though the thermostat had been turned off for the night. He knew her routine by now. He knew her license was fake and that she’d likely never been to India in spite of her claims that she’d studied under some swami guru while traveling abroad to find her inner sense of peace. He had to hand it to her, for a girl who grew up with a silver spoon in her mouth, she’d become damn resourceful. In the two weeks since finding her, he’d lurked around the edges of her life, waiting for the right opportunity to bring her down.

There was no malice—he was just doing his job. Therefore, her request for a shower seemed a decent thing to grant. Perhaps in a slight nod to the time when she’d been his only friend in a world that had turned against him, he agreed.

And that was mistake number one.

CASSI SMILED WITH LIPS gone cold and forced humble gratitude into her gaze for his small concession. She didn’t recognize the hard man before her even though he wore the face of someone who had once been very dear to her. She knew he wore a gun under his jacket, that he carried a badge of some sort though she didn’t know from what agency, and that he was going to haul her in on charges that she was certainly guilty of—if you went by the letter of the law—but could explain with complete sincerity if he’d but give her the chance.

Only, she knew there would be no chances to explain to this man. He was hard as granite and functioning as a robotic arm of the law.

So after she set the water temperature in the shower stall and made small appropriate shower noises, she quickly jerked a sweatshirt over her sweaty sports bra and slipped on her tennis shoes. She climbed out the bathroom window to the fire escape and melted into the frigid night.

And if she felt a twinge of guilt for duping him, it was eclipsed by the knowledge that she was not cut out for prison life and not even Tommy Bristol was going to make her test that assumption.

THOMAS SWORE SOMETHING ugly when he entered the bathroom and found it empty. She’d given him the slip. Just like that. Smiled and disappeared like smoke on the wind. He should’ve seen it coming, but he hadn’t. Was it necessary to log that in the report? That he’d been momentarily fogged by a sense of nostalgia and inadvertently let a wanted woman slip through his fingers like a rookie cop fresh out of the academy?

Hell, he wasn’t even a cop. He was an FBI agent. And he should know better.

The fact was…he did know better. Cassi had always managed to turn the contents of his brain upside down until all the smarts just tumbled to the floor, useless. Apparently, not even the years between them had changed that.

No. He didn’t think he’d include this first meeting in the report.

He knew where she was going. He’d just have to beat her there before she split again. Knowing her, she already had another destination in her mind, another identity to assume. She was becoming damn good at disappearing but he was damn good at finding those who didn’t want to be found.

That was why her dossier had landed in his lap. At first, he’d been stunned stupid, staring down at the file in his hands, hardly hearing a word his supervisor was saying about the case. He caught bits and pieces, none of it good, and by the time he’d recovered from seeing Cassi staring back at him from a dated driver’s license photo, he’d lost most of what had been said and had to follow up on his own so as not to let on that there was a definite conflict of interest for him on this one.

He should’ve given the file right back with the admission that they’d grown up together and he’d once harbored romantic feelings for her, but his lips sealed shut and the words died, trapped in his mouth. If anyone should bring Cassi in, shouldn’t it be him? He’d make sure she was treated with respect and even if he couldn’t help, perhaps having a familiar face might lessen the fear of being taken into custody.

Then he read her file and he’d been appalled, no, horrified at how much she’d changed since they saw each other last, more than a handful of years ago. Actually, it’d been their freshman year in separate colleges. She went off to Boston University while he was going to junior college with the hopes of transferring to a state school or university, but Cassi had never found education particularly alluring and never graduated. Instead, she fell into a party crowd that Thomas gave a wide berth. He had no use for overprivileged Yanks with inflated egos and ridiculous credit card limits.

It had never mattered much that they came from different worlds until then. Cassi started to change—or maybe she would’ve said that he was the one who changed; it didn’t really matter at this point—and hot, angry words had been said, mean enough to sever ties and fracture an enduring friendship. He hated to admit it but he’d never stopped nursing that particular wound, no matter how hard he tried.

And now the devious woman had just proven she didn’t give a rip for anything they might’ve shared when they were young. So why the hell was he?

He gave the studio one final sweep just in case she’d doubled back, though he instinctively knew she wouldn’t. But he wasn’t about to make another rookie mistake. He left because he knew Cassi wasn’t going to hang around this town much longer.

And one thing was for sure, he was ending this night with Cassi in custody.

CHAPTER TWO

CASSI VACILLATED BETWEEN plain getting the hell out of the city with just the clothes on her back or returning to her tiny apartment to get a few things first. In the end, she decided—a bit fretfully—that she couldn’t skip town without her date book at the very least. It seemed a small thing but every little scrap of information she’d managed to pull together on Lionel Vissher was in that damn thing and she wasn’t about to let it get tossed in the trash when the landlord realized she’d bailed.

So, against every screaming bit of intuition in her head, she returned to her place. But she eschewed the front walk up and opted for the fire escape instead, just in case someone was watching—and by someone she meant that cold-eyed stranger trying to pass himself off as a former friend.

She jimmied the window and slid it open quietly. She always kept it unlocked for this very purpose. While most people might worry about their possessions, she didn’t own anything she couldn’t walk away from except for her date book and she doubted anyone looking for easy cash was going to zero in on the beaten-up old date book. It looked as if it’d been chewed up by a rabid dog and then run over by a semi.

Forgoing the light, she made her way to the nightstand beside her bed, intent on getting her book and then racing out of there. She had already purchased a bus ticket for this very occasion, though admittedly, she hadn’t thought she was going to be using it quite this soon. She’d come to New York following a lead but it took time to ferret out details of Lionel’s life before he met her mom, and she’d only just started to flesh out her new identity so she hadn’t made contact yet with her mark.

Just as her hand closed on the worn leather, the light flicked on, momentarily blinding her.

“You really ought to be less sentimental,” a voice said, scaring the crap out of her in one breath and causing her to swear softly in the next. “If you’d split town you might’ve earned yourself another couple of months free and clear, but in the end, it’s always the mementos that get people.”

She turned. “It’s not a memento. It’s the key to getting my life back,” she said evenly, pissed at herself for breaking one of her own rules—carrying her valuables with her at all times. She should’ve kept her date book in her backpack with the rest of her essentials but she’d left it behind this morning when she’d realized her backpack had ripped a seam. She’d planned on buying a new one.

Tommy gestured and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. She eyed the stainless steel and lifted her chin. “Aren’t you even curious?” she asked.

“No.”

She made a face. “What happened to you? You used to have a heart. Being a cop has leached all the humanity out of you.”

His expression didn’t change, and the fact that he was implacable as stone in spite of their history served to make her wish things had turned out differently between them, but it didn’t make her want to turn herself in. If she allowed Tommy to bring her in, Lionel would win and there was no way in hell she was going to let that happen. “So now what?” she asked, stalling for time.

“I take you into custody and we drive to my field office in Pittsburgh, where I will turn you over to the proper authorities.”

“Sounds like a walk in the park,” she said, then sighed. “Well, I guess it was bound to happen sooner or later.”

He eyed her with suspicion. “So you’re willing to come quietly this time?” He glanced around the tiny apartment. “No windows you’re planning to crawl out of? Or maybe you have a trapdoor somewhere that drops you down to the first floor?”

“Well, there is the trash chute but I don’t really like the idea of getting dirty,” she quipped. When her answer didn’t elicit even the tiniest of grins, she said, “Can you blame me? What would you’ve done in my situation?”

“I’m not in your situation, nor would I be, so there’s no sense in trying out hypothetical scenarios.”

Cassi glared. “I liked you better when you were a loner without friends.”

A tiny muscle moved in his cheek and she wondered at it. Had she struck a nerve? It seemed cruel to remind him of how they met but he wasn’t making this any easier by acting like a robot. Well, what a waste of time anyway. She wasn’t sticking around to smooth out the edges of their reunion. Better to get this over with and deal with her hurt feelings later. Like when she was on a bus traveling far enough away to kick him off her trail.

She came forward and put her wrists together in a show of surrender but she had no intentions of going quietly. In one of her identities she worked at a dojo. She and the instructor had a thing and she was a very able student. Suffice to say…she knew a few things that would come in handy right about now.

“Turn around,” he instructed and she gave him a sad, wounded look that said she was hurt because he didn’t trust her. And if he were smart, he wouldn’t. But she had a hunch that he wasn’t as hard as he put on. There was a soft spot underneath all that marble and she was going to poke at it to her advantage. He seemed to weigh the options heavily and she almost thought she’d overestimated her ability to persuade him but he finally relented with a gruff admonishment, “If you try anything I will hog-tie you for the entire trip back. You got it?” and she knew she’d won.

She bit her lip but nodded. “Scout’s honor.”

Good thing she’d never been a Scout. Shame on Tommy. He should’ve remembered that.

THOMAS CLICKED OPEN the handcuffs and came toward her, his gut reacting adversely to the lump of lead sitting in it. She looked scared, even though she was trying to hide it. She’d always tried to hide her true feelings from everyone, except him.

A part of him was itching to know the details of her messed-up life but he kept that curiosity under lock and key. He didn’t need to know. When he looked at her he tried not to see the girl he’d fallen helplessly in love with back when they were kids. He’d been the quiet loner and she’d been the popular girl who attracted people like bees to honey. Gorgeous and wealthy, spoiled and willful, yet for whatever reasons, she’d befriended him during a time when nothing in his young life had seemed right. She might not have realized it but that one act of kindness had sealed her fate. And his, as well. By the time they reached high school, his heart had secretly belonged to her.

She could’ve had it all. Hell, she practically already had at the age of sixteen. So when had it all gone to shit?

Thomas advanced and as he prepared to click the handcuffs in place—his mind in all sorts of places but not focused as it should’ve been—he was taken off guard by what she did next.

The woman clocked him.

Painful stars burst behind his eyes and he crashed to the floor, but before he landed he grabbed blindly and by sheer luck managed to snag her sneakered foot, sending her tumbling to the worn carpet, as well. She landed with a soft grunt and tried to kick his hand free but he was already losing the birds flying around his head and he lunged at her. She turned into a kicking, scratching she-devil and it was all he could do to keep from getting her size nine in his face.

“Let me go,” she demanded as they struggled, but he’d managed to put his full weight on top of her and the last part came out as an outraged gasp. She was shorter than him but at five foot nine she wasn’t a petite little thing. She’d always been curvy in all the right spots and if it hadn’t been for the pulsing agony in his temple he might’ve been distracted by all that soft, womanly flesh pressed tightly against him. When he was a teen he’d fantasized about what it might feel like to be hip to hip with this woman, but in his wildest dreams he never imagined that when it happened she’d be doing her best to kill him.

He managed to secure both her hands but it wasn’t easy. The woman had skills. Both of them were breathing hard, which made her breasts push against his chest and he could feel the soft caress of her breath against his face. She smelled of cinnamon candy and some kind of herbal lotion or oil that you might find in a specialty store. It wasn’t patchouli—that stuff made him sneeze—but it was something that someone might enjoy as an incense. Whatever it was, the scent called up images of warm bodies sliding against one another in a darkened room, urgent whispers and hands caressing. Hell, did she douse herself in some kind of aphrodisiac? He blinked hard against the images his mind happily threw at him in concert with the aroma assault and he tightened his grip on her hands until she couldn’t do much more than twist beneath him. He stared down into a pair of deadly calculating eyes that radiated anger and retribution and he knew if she had half a chance she’d brain him and be on her merry way.

“You’re coming with me,” he said from between gritted teeth, his breathing labored for more reasons than the physical exertion. He was horrified to admit he was aroused. He could only hope she didn’t realize that the bulge pressing against her wasn’t only the ridge from his jeans.

Chest heaving as she caught her breath, she gave him a mocking glare as she pointed out one crucial detail. “The minute you let go of my hands I’m going to get free. You have the advantage right now only because you’re holding my hands. You can’t stay this way forever.”

He narrowed his gaze. “Don’t make this worse on yourself. You’re already in a heap of trouble. The ride is over.”

“You don’t know anything about what’s going on. All you know is what he’s told everyone.”

He shouldn’t ask but he did anyway. “He who?”

“Lionel Vissher. My stepfather.”

“What’s he got to do with the people you’ve swindled out of thousands of dollars?”

“I haven’t swindled anyone,” she shot back and he could only stare. The last time he checked, stealing people’s identity and then their cash was indeed swindling. But whatever word she used to describe it…it was still illegal. And she was guilty. “I borrowed a little to survive. I plan to pay them back.”

“Sure you do.”

Her lips tightened and he found it vaguely ironic that she was offended by his disbelief. “I have every name of every person I ever borrowed from and I will pay them back as soon as I get Lionel out of my family’s bank account.”

“So these past two years you’ve been running from the law, you’ve actually been hunting down information on your stepfather?” he asked.

“Yes,” she answered, a flare of hope in her voice. “That’s exactly it. I never actually hurt anyone, I mean I know I deceived a few people but harmlessly so. When I pay them back everything will be fine. But if you take me in, I’ll never get to clear my name and worse, that snake will continue to live in my family’s home sucking up the fortune my father helped build.” His brow furrowed and she recognized that look from years ago. She continued quickly. “Think about it, Tommy. Would I do the things they say I’ve done without a good reason? Why would I? I had plenty of money. I didn’t need to steal, not until Lionel came into my life. If you knew what he was really like, you’d be arresting him instead of me.” Her hands were slowly losing feeling. She wiggled against him and peered up at him with what she hoped was an expression of vulnerability as she pleaded in a small voice. “Please let me go…you’re hurting me, Tommy.”

He paused and a myriad of emotions crossed his face. She’d forgotten how handsome he was. He’d epitomized the strong silent type when they were growing up. He’d always been a great listener, even when all she did was complain about problems that in the big scheme of things didn’t matter at all. If only she’d realized that then. Now it was too late.

His gaze searched her face and she could almost hope that his silence was evidence of his uncertainty, but she should’ve known that such a possibility was small for a man like Thomas Bristol. He was a stickler for the rules—which had made a career in law enforcement such a no-brainer. His mouth tightened and his gaze hardened as he told her what was going to happen next. “I’m going to let your hands go and you’re going to come quietly.”

No way in hell. “Try it and see.”

“I don’t want to hurt you. Just do yourself a favor and don’t fight me.”

Was that the tiniest plea couched in that harsh tone? She could only wonder. “Let me go and we won’t have to fight.”

“You know that’s not possible.”

“I don’t know any such thing. You could walk away, pretend you never found me.”

“That’s not who I am and I’m not about to change so you can continue using people for your own gain. According to your file, you’re a thief and a liar and your free ride stops here.”

She scowled. “That’s an inflammatory statement, don’t you think? And quite possibly slanderous. Watch yourself, Tommy. Perhaps I’ll sue.”

His mouth twisted. “Oh, really? I’d like to see you try.”

“Get off me, you brute. It’s not like you’re a lightweight. Perhaps not so many doughnuts and a little more roughage in your diet would help drop some of those pounds,” she taunted him, enjoying the flare of anger that followed. It was complete crap, of course. He was built like a Greek god and if she were in a different position, she certainly wouldn’t complain about his body on top of hers but that wasn’t her reality so the lug needed to get the hell off and quick. If insulting him got the job done she was more than willing to do it. “Oh, man, I can’t breathe.” She twisted a little beneath him. “Seriously, you’re hurting me. I promise I won’t do anything, just get off. Okay?”

“Promise?” He eyed her with suspicion.

“My hands are going numb and my ribs are cracking,” she said in answer, shifting again under his weight.

“You’re the one who put us in this position,” he reminded her, but oddly, he didn’t move. She inhaled the sharp scent of his skin and when images from the past assaulted her, she kicked them away. She’d never slept with him—a blessing, perhaps, though definitely a serious regret—but they had shared one helluva kiss on her seventeenth birthday. Was he remembering that sizzling moment, as well? Doubtful. The fact that she was suddenly reminded of that moment discomfited her.

“Tommy, I mean it,” she said, snapping him out of whatever he was thinking. He shifted slowly, watching her closely. Guess he didn’t trust her much after she rattled his teeth. She wouldn’t, either, if the roles were reversed. She drew a deep breath, wincing as her ribs complained, then as he let her hands go she shook some circulation back into them before scrambling to her feet.

“Cassi,” he warned, advancing toward her as she backed away, her thoughts moving quickly to the best possible escape plan. “There’s nowhere for you to go. Think this through. You won’t get far.”

He underestimated her need to escape. She shrugged, appearing flippant but in truth she was stalling, waiting for the strength to return to her limbs. She was starting to think that’s why he stayed on top of her, to weaken her. Well, if it was, it’d worked and it also destroyed her hope that he’d stayed put simply because he liked being there. Ouch. There’s a blow to the ol’ ego. She flexed her fingers and gave him a hard look of her own. “Sorry, Tommy. I can’t. There’s no way I can make you understand and that’s a tragedy but I’m not going anywhere with you. That man killed my mother and I’m going to prove it somehow. It’s the only chance I have of making things right, so if you want to take me in you’ll have to kill me first.”

CHAPTER THREE

SHE MOVED QUICKLY BUT Thomas had anticipated her move and dodged with her. Just as his fingers grabbed for her arm, she spun out of his reach. She was making her way to the door. He knew if she made it past that threshold she’d disappear and it would take months to track her down again. That wasn’t going to happen. He didn’t have time to zap her with a Taser, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to shoot her—though another agent might’ve, seeing as she’d already committed an assault against an officer—so he went old school.

This time when he tackled her to the ground, he didn’t waste time trying to subdue her. She kicked and bucked but he reared back and cut a clean right hook across her jaw.

She stilled and went limp beneath him. Thomas exhaled loudly, wishing to hell he hadn’t had to do that, but he figured it was the lesser of two evils at that moment.

“Damn it, Cassi,” he muttered sharply, feeling like shit. It went against his personal beliefs—men who hit women were scum—but she’d given him no choice. Still, even knowing this, it didn’t lessen the feeling he’d just crossed a line. A good agent didn’t let the past affect his actions. If he’d hesitated, she would’ve gotten away and he would have had to explain why to his superiors.

Pulling his handcuffs, he made short work of securing her. He climbed to his feet and took a quick look around the cramped apartment. Ugly was the appropriate word for it, he thought as he made a short circuit. Peeling yellowed wallpaper covered the walls, and brown, matted carpet covered the floor. He doubted anything in this place belonged to Cassi. From what he remembered, thrift store garbage wasn’t exactly her decorating style, which told him she’d rented the apartment furnished. There was nothing personal in this space, nothing that would suggest she actually lived there. She had the essentials but nothing else. The occupant of this house lived a transient existence. Here today, gone tomorrow, which fit Cassi’s M.O. Still, he opened a few drawers and rifled through the contents. A grim part of him was hoping to find evidence of drugs because maybe he could understand why she’d turned so bad if he found she suffered an addiction. But when his search came up empty, he couldn’t say he wasn’t relieved, too.

No pictures, no personal effects. What a lonely life, he reflected for a minute before returning to where Cassi lay unconscious. He’d lied. He’d wanted to know her story, her reasons, but he’d be damned if he let himself slide down that slippery slope. He didn’t cause her to make her bad choices. He had to keep sight of that before he went and did something foolish, like trust her to tell him the truth and then fall hook, line and sinker for her lies.

Thomas hoisted her onto his shoulder, grunting under the weight and taking care not to notice the plump, round curves of her ass right at his face. There were a million different reasons why he shouldn’t be attracted to her, but his hand itched to touch her and it only served to sour his mood further.

Why Cassi? Of all the women in the world…why her? There were too many memories, too many unresolved feelings, just flat out, too much of everything. He’d been a fool to take this case but what was done was done. He’d see it through, no matter what. And he absolutely would not give in to the strange and inappropriate urge to give that firm ass a nice squeeze.

He passed a neighbor or two but didn’t stop to explain why he was carting away an unconscious woman on his shoulder, nor did he flash his badge. Funny, no one asked any questions. That said a lot about the neighborhood she was living in. Definitely a far cry from the digs she was accustomed to, that was for sure.

Cassi had lived in the rich part of town where they grew up in Bridgeport, West Virginia. Her house had been the most lavish, ridiculous piece of masonry Thomas had ever seen. Cassi came from old money and she’d enjoyed all that it had afforded from top-shelf education to high-society circles. Hell, she’d even had a coming-out party when she’d turned sixteen just like they did in the Old South. His upbringing hadn’t been so privileged. Until he’d been put in Mama Jo’s care, his home life had been hell. He didn’t like to spend much time remembering those days. And there was no reason for him to, either, but a memory floated unbidden from his past. Odd, given the circumstances, but it flashed real and tangible before he could stop it.

“You like her,” a young Christian had said, his voice wise for a twelve-year-old kid who still slept with a ratty teddy bear that smelled so bad it probably scared away vermin. Owen glanced up from whittling on his ash twig, interest in his eyes at their brother’s sudden proclamation. “So why don’t you just ask her out or something?”

Thomas’s face had colored. “I don’t like her,” he protested. “We’re just friends. Nothing wrong with that.”

They were down by Flaherty’s Creek behind Mama Jo’s house “stayin’ out of mischief” as per Mama’s instruction.

“It’s s’ okay, you know,” Christian said, skipping a rock across the water, listening as it splashed to the other side. “If you like her, I mean. She’s pretty.”

Thomas followed Christian’s lead and threw his own rock, giving a short, victorious smile as it skipped one more time than Christian’s rock. Finally, he shrugged. “It’s not like that,” he said. “She’s not like most girls. She’s—” he scratched at his head “—I don’t know, special. She doesn’t notice that my clothes aren’t brand-spanking-new or that I don’t have a bunch of money like the rest of those dumb Yanks do. She thinks I’m funny, too.”

“Funny-looking, you mean,” quipped Owen with a smothered grin before returning to his whittling.

“Ha-ha. Go back to your stick or I’ll tell Poppy Jones a thing or two about you.”

Owen narrowed his stare at Thomas, his green eyes darkening. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would.” Thomas gave his brother his best shit-eatin’ grin. “Like how you stare at the back of her head during class with this dopey look on your face.”

Christian cackled and slapped his knee. “You guys both got it bad. You won’t see me drooling over some girl. You gotta get them on the hook before you reel them in. And whatever you do, don’t let them get their claws into you. If you do, you’re done for.”

Both Thomas and Owen shared sour looks but they couldn’t exactly say anything to the contrary, because even as the youngest, Christian had the girls going nuts over him. In fact, they trailed after the kid like he was made of chocolate and they all wanted to take a bite, but Christian never let anyone catch him…at least not for long.

Owen straightened and examined his work. A rudimentary, but not half-bad-looking bear totem stared back at him. He tucked the finished work into his back pocket and went to stand by Thomas. “You know, you’re right. Cassi is different than other girls. She’s cool and I hope you two stay friends a long time. I mean it.”

That quiet statement resonated with Thomas, striking a chord deep inside him. “Thanks, man. Me, too. Yeah…I mean…” He shifted on the balls of his feet and admitted something private. “It would be cool if we did but she’s got all those rich friends…I don’t know. I don’t really fit in with her world.”

Owen knew a thing or two about not fitting in, but he shrugged and said, “Who cares what her rich friends think? Cassi wants you in her world so forget about them. She’s the one who matters, right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” he agreed.

“So make the most of it then. And don’t let her go.”

Thomas shoulder-bumped him with a grin. “Look at you all wise and stuff.” They shared a laugh and then Thomas sobered. “Thanks.”

Owen grinned in answer and opened his mouth to say something but he never got the chance. Christian barreled into them both with a loud battle cry and they all went tumbling into the creek for one last cutthroat game of Drown the Rat before the sun set on the horizon.

The recollection of their laughter drew a soft smile from his lips. He didn’t know why that memory, of all the ones tucked away in his mind, rose to the surface but at least it elicited warmth instead of pain, like the ones before he came to live with Mama Jo.

As far as he was concerned, his life before age twelve didn’t exist. Shaking off the odd melancholy, he grabbed his cell phone and stopped short of giving his superior a status update. He figured there was no rush. The prisoner was secured and it was a five-hour drive back to headquarters. With nothing but time to pass, he thought he’d use the opportunity to satisfy the questions in his head.

It was a foolish idea. Somewhere in his mind there was a stern voice of reason warning him that this was a bad plan but he wasn’t listening at the moment. He could charter a plane on the Bureau’s dime and be there in half the time but he wanted to drive—and he wanted to spend time with her.

CASSI CAME TO WITH A GROAN that was immediately followed by a muttered curse under her breath when she realized she was handcuffed.

Her jaw hurt like hell. He’d punched her. She hadn’t seen that coming. Tommy wasn’t the kind of man who hit women. At least he hadn’t been. But her jaw ached like a son of a bitch so there was no denying what had happened.

She opened her eyes slowly and spared Tommy a short accusatory glance. “I can’t believe you hit me.”

“You were uncooperative.”

“Is it your habit now to hit women?” Given his childhood—she was one of a very small group who knew the details—it was a nasty question. His jaw tightened but she refused to feel bad. He’d punched her in the face. That wasn’t something she was going to forget anytime soon. There was also the fact that she was handcuffed like a common criminal to deal with, too. “I’d have thought that was one thing you’d never do. Seems I’m not the only who’s changed over the years.”

“I didn’t want to. You left me no choice,” he said.

“You had a choice. You could’ve let me go.” His silence told her how futile that argument was but she was more than angry with the man—her feelings were bruised that he’d purposefully hurt her. The Tommy in her memory would’ve beaten anyone to a pulp if they’d laid a hand on her. Now he was the one dealing out the punches. Her eyes stung. She wouldn’t cry in front of him. Instead she allowed a small smirk even though the action cost her as a sharp pain followed. She gingerly worked her jaw. The petty victory could only buoy her spirits for a brief moment but it was enough to keep the tears from surfacing. “You didn’t by any chance happen to grab a small, black leather date book on your way out, did you?”

“You aren’t going to need a date book where you’re going,” he answered and she scowled. “No, I didn’t grab anything but you from that hovel you called an apartment.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” she shot back, an odd pang of embarrassment for her living conditions getting the better of her. What did she care what he thought? “I’ve lived in worse.”

He glanced at her. “Worse? That’s a scary thought. I think I saw a cockroach big enough to cart away a small child.”

“That was Charlie. I feed him scraps. I was training him to be an attack roach. A few more veggie burgers and he’d have been better than a guard dog. I could’ve sicced him on you,” she said dully, feeling ill at the loss of her date book. In her mind, she replayed the scenario again and again, sickened that she’d been so careless with the one important item in her possession.

“So, what’s in this date book that’s so important?”

She swallowed the burn at the back of her throat. Two years of hard work…gone. Why hadn’t she hit him harder? Truth was, she’d pulled her punch a little. She hadn’t wanted to hurt him. Not really. Now…hell, she should’ve knocked his teeth out of his head. She worked her jaw but refused to wince even though the pain felt rooted in her bones. “I guess it doesn’t matter, does it?” she said, looking away so he didn’t read the despair in her eyes.

“No, I guess it doesn’t,” he returned, his gaze never leaving the road, the unfeeling bastard. But then, he cut her a quick glance, saying, “But just out of curiosity—”

She closed her eyes. “Just shut up, will you? Whatever’s in that date book is none of your damn business, so drop it.”

“Fine.”

She leaned against the headrest and struggled not to just let it all out and cry her fool head off. At one time she would’ve bet her life that Tommy would always have her back. The man was integrity personified. Yet, here she was feeling betrayed by the very same man. Cassi twisted so that she could look out the window instead of at the man who was destroying any chance of getting her life back and—ironically—finding justice for her mother.

WHY DID HE FEEL AS IF HE was the one doing something wrong here? Thomas tightened his hands on the steering wheel and wondered if he hadn’t made a mistake in driving. Suddenly, that five-hour ride didn’t seem like a good idea. And what had he expected? It was unlikely Cassi was going to ignore the handcuffs and chatter away like old times. He wasn’t an idiot, even though his actions might indicate otherwise. He’d known all this…but he couldn’t resist the possibility of seeing her again…maybe even helping her through this mess she’d made for herself.

And now he felt like an idiot for even entertaining such thoughts. She wasn’t a damsel in distress. The woman was a far cry from the girl he’d known so long ago. This woman was a criminal…with a nasty punch. His head was still ringing.

So knowing all this…why was he feeling bad for her? He cast a quick glance her way then looked away again. Was that remorse in her expression? Her face, tilted away from him was in profile as she leaned against the glass. A tendril of something long lost kindled to life and reminded him of how he’d thought he was in love with her once.

“Tell me what you think it feels like to be in love,” a thirteen-year-old Cassi whispered from his memory of a day in late May. She’d been wearing a white sundress that dusted her knees and they’d stolen away to a meadow behind Mama Jo’s house on one of the occasions Cassi and her mother had had an argument. During those times, Cassi had often found her way to Thomas’s house, even though their homes weren’t exactly close. The warm breeze had lifted the honey-hued hair away from her face while her blue eyes had sparked with genuine curiosity. They’d tumbled to the tall grass and lay side by side on their stomachs, watching through the swaying green stalks as squirrels chased each other through the white ash trees and birds dipped and wheeled in the flawless cerulean sky.

He’d known the answer because he felt it every time he looked at her. “I think it makes your stomach all tight like someone’s squeezing it real hard, so much so that it hurts, but you don’t mind because it makes you want to be around that person, even when you’re not really doing anything special.”

She wrinkled her nose, not at all pleased with his theory. “That sounds like the stomach flu. Why would anyone want to fall in love if it made them want to throw up? No, I don’t think that’s how it is at all,” she announced firmly. “I think that when you’re in love you feel a tickle in your heart and you want to kiss that person all the time.”

Thomas’s young heart had stuttered at the thought of kissing Cassi. Cassi hadn’t noticed though and had simply sighed dreamily, saying, “I can’t wait to fall in love. I think I would like to kiss someone who wants to kiss me back.” Then an alarming thought had come to her and she sat a little straighter, turning to Thomas. “What if I never find someone who loves me? What if I go my entire life and no one wants to kiss me like that? Oh, Tommy, that’s an awful thought. I would die.”

And he’d wanted to reassure her that that would never happen because at that very moment he wanted to kiss her so bad his brain had simply stopped functioning. Then as he thought to lean forward to press his lips against hers in what would’ve been their first kiss, she’d leaned over and whispered conspiratorially, “Can you keep a secret?” He’d been dumbfounded as she giggled, admitting, “I think I’m going to fall in love with Billy Barton and I’m going to kiss him.”

His world had plummeted.

And Cassi’s first kiss had been with a boy who could burp the alphabet…not with Thomas. Their kiss wouldn’t happen for another four years.

Jerked back to the moment, he suffered the pang of that bittersweet childhood memory and was happy to push it away and focus on the here and now, not the been and gone.

“You hungry?” he asked gruffly.

She didn’t bother to answer.

He withheld a sigh. “Fine. Just asking.”

“Why you?” she asked him abruptly. He gave her a quick look and saw the glitter in her eyes. “Isn’t there some kind of conflict of interest, seeing as we have a history?” He could’ve lied but he couldn’t bring himself to utter a word. His silence was telling. She barked a short laugh. “You didn’t offer that information. Interesting,” she said, returning her gaze to the darkened landscape outside the window. “So, it seems Thomas Bristol isn’t always Dudley Do-Right when it suits his purposes to bend the rules.” She shrugged. “I’m the last person to judge for what you may consider obvious reasons but if there’s one thing I never pegged you for, it’s a hypocrite.”

“I’m not a hypocrite,” he bit out, his hackles rising at the mockery.

“Oh? I didn’t manage to finish college but I’m pretty sure I have a full grasp of the word’s meaning. Please explain to me how you are not indeed a hypocrite, judging by your actions? Is it not required for you to disclose any personal history or relationship with a suspect or prisoner?” He didn’t answer, which was good because she continued. “Ah, well. Like I said, if you’re Thomas Bristol, rules are simply guidelines but for everyone else, the law is black-and-white.”

It wasn’t like that but when she put it that way it sounded pretty damn bad. “You’re right. I didn’t tell my superior. I wanted—” to see you again “—to make sure that you were treated as fairly as possible given the situation. You know if you’d pulled that stunt back there with anyone else you might’ve gotten yourself killed. Did you think about that at all when you were going all kung fu on my ass?” She refused to look at him. He swore under his breath, wondering why he was wasting his time. “Forget it. You know, you’re right. I should’ve walked away the first time your file crossed my desk. I should’ve done an about-face and left you to whoever had the misfortune to get your case, but I didn’t because at first I thought there had to be a mistake. There’s no way the girl I used to know had turned into a criminal. But when I couldn’t deny it any longer I wanted to make sure that at the very least, you had someone who would treat you kindly.”

At that she gave him a brief look, derision twisting her mouth. “Kindly? This is your version of ‘kind’? Pardon me if I don’t subscribe to your brand of kindness,” she retorted and rubbed gingerly at her jaw with her bound hands.

“You seem to forget you cleaned my clock the first go-round.”

The corner of her lips twitched. “Of course I haven’t forgotten. I’m just wishing I hadn’t pulled my punch. Maybe the situation might have played out differently.”

She’d pulled her punch? He nearly did a double take. It’d felt as if she’d beaned him with a hammer. Gone was the girl who’d shied away from anything physical for fear of breaking a nail. “Where’d you learn to be such a bruiser?” he asked.

She didn’t look inclined to answer but after a drawn-out pause, she answered coolly. “You’d be surprised what I know.”

“At this point no, I wouldn’t,” he muttered.

CHAPTER FOUR

“I HAVE TO PEE,” SHE announced, looking to him to see if he cared. To be honest, she didn’t really need to go but it was a plausible excuse to get him to stop the car. They’d been traveling for about an hour and a half, and each mile away from New York and her precious date book made her panic level climb but she kept it under control. It wouldn’t do to have him know just how desperate she was feeling about this whole situation. She didn’t need to give him yet another piece of leverage to use against her. So, the excuse of bodily function seemed the best bet.

“How bad?” he asked.

“I’m about to soak your leather interior. Is that bad enough?”

“Can you hold it another few minutes? I think there’s an off-ramp coming up. Might as well gas up while we’re at it. If we’re lucky there might be a McDonald’s or something.”

“Yum. Mystery meat. I’m a vegan, by the way,” she sniffed.

“Since when?”

“Since now,” she snapped. It wasn’t true. Trinity Moon had been a vegan but Cassi Nolan loved meat. Still, she didn’t like him thinking that he knew her that well and she was willing to continue the farce if it threw Tommy off. “I don’t eat anything with a face.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure they remove the face before they throw the animal on the grill,” he said, eliciting a scowl on her part.

“Now you’re just being crude. Typical.”

“Listen, you can order a salad. How’s that?”

She’d really rather sink her teeth into a cheese-burger but she nodded stiffly. It burned like acid but she offered a terse thank-you. Best to make it look genuine. They were somewhere outside Philadelphia and she had no cash on her. That posed a significant problem. If she didn’t have any cash, she couldn’t pay for a bus ride back to New York, which meant she’d have to hitchhike. The fact that the idea of thumbing a ride with a stranger didn’t scare her as much as it should was a sign that she was, indeed, desperate to get back to the city. Hitchhiking, under normal circumstances, was just plain stupid.

An alternate thought came to her. She slid her gaze over to Tommy and took in the details of the car. It was your basic government-issue sedan, which also meant it was an automatic. Score one for her, since she’d never learned how to drive a manual. When they pulled over, he’d gas up, which would take care of that issue and she could make it back to the city and dump the car before they could catch her on GPS. She bit back the smile but allowed herself the first real breath since being captured. She had a plan.

THOMAS TOOK THE FIRST off-ramp that indicated there was food and gas, but before he parked the car, he made a slow sweep of the area.

“What are you doing?” she asked, squirming a little in her seat. “Remember me? The woman with an immediate and personal issue? I have to go.”

“Just getting my bearings,” he said, finally selecting a spot right under a bright streetlamp. He offered her a short smile. “This isn’t my first apprehension. History or not, I’m not taking any chances.”

There was something of a dark expression that flitted across her face and he almost got back on the freeway. She was up to something. It’d been a while but he recognized the cunning look in her eyes that she was doing her best to blanket. He turned and tried to level with her. “Listen, I know you’re probably thinking of a dozen different ways to get away from me but don’t waste your time. I’ve done this more times than you know. I don’t want to hurt you but I will disable you if need be in order to get the job done. You got it?”

She had no reason to doubt his words. She could see that Tommy wasn’t the same person but she had to believe that deep down he still felt something for her, even if it was buried and nearly suffocated beneath the layers of time. Still, she wasn’t willing to bet her life on it so she had to think of Tommy as nothing more than an obstacle. It should be easy, seeing as she could feel the bruise forming under her skin from his knuckles. Her gaze hardened but her mouth trembled as she said, “I have to pee.”

“All right, all right. I heard you. Just making sure we’re on the same page before you go and do something stupid. I’ve seen that look on your face. It’s the one that signals trouble.”

“You don’t know me any longer. You shouldn’t presume to know any look of mine, Tommy. Trouble or otherwise,” she retorted. “Now can we stop with the chatter and get on with the need at hand?” She lifted her bound wrists and he laughed. She actually thought he was going to take off those manacles? She frowned at his soft chuckle. “What’s so funny? Surely you don’t expect me to manage the bathroom without the use of my hands.”

“I’m sure you’ll manage. Get creative,” he said, getting out of the car. He had a feeling Cassi could manage just about anything she put her mind to in her present occupation. According to her file, she was a chameleon. She melted into her surroundings and took on a persona flawlessly. One thing that bothered him the minute he picked up her file was something that he had no business wanting to know but he did anyway…why did she stick to the East Coast? She would’ve stood a better chance at evasion if she’d skipped to the West, but she’d stayed within a certain area, almost as if she were following a pattern. Didn’t make sense for someone who was just looking to rip people off. That’s the part that bothered him. Or maybe he was just loath to believe that the girl of his memory had truly turned out bad.

He walked her to the restroom and she gave him a scowl for not accommodating her desire to free her hands but he didn’t trust her. Besides, he wouldn’t trust anyone in this position. She was in his custody, not a date.

“I’ll be waiting,” he said.

“Fabulous,” she muttered and kicked the door shut. He had no doubt she was imagining that it’d been his head.

CASSI PACED THE GRIMY FLOOR of the rest stop bathroom, her bottom lip scraping against her teeth as she wondered how to get out of this situation. She found it vaguely disturbing that Tommy had seen right through her. She’d have to be more careful—that is if she couldn’t manage to ditch him. There was a sharp knock at the door and his muffled voice told her to hurry up.

She narrowed her stare at the warped and ugly door then dropped her gaze to the floor, looking for something to pick the lock on the cuffs. She found a broken pen in the corner, nearly covered by a sopping paper towel. She tried not to think too hard about where that pen had been in a previous life. By the looks of the floor, it was nowhere pretty. She broke off the metal clip and worked it into the small hole for the cuff key.

Another sharp rap caused sweat to bead her forehead even though it was freezing in the cramped bathroom. “Gimme a minute,” she yelled. “A little privacy please!”

He grumbled something on the other side but didn’t try to come in. She thanked her stars for the smallest blessings and worked harder at freeing the lock. She’d practiced this before using a bobby pin but this was a bit trickier. Just as she was about to give up, the lock sprang and the cuffs slid open. She exhaled softly. She had to make it look as if she hadn’t messed with them so she clicked the manacles back on loosely, checking to make sure she could easily slide out of them. She risked a tremulous smile for her accomplishment but smothered it before walking out of the bathroom.

Tommy’s nose had reddened from the cold. He gave her a once-over and she held her breath as his gaze fastened briefly on her cuffs. When she lifted her chin and met his stare head-on he seemed satisfied that everything was as it should be. He took hold of her arm and walked her back to the car.

“Such a gentleman,” she quipped as he opened the door for her.

“Do you ever give that acid tongue of yours a rest? I see time hasn’t done much for your disposition.”

She glared. “Excuse me for not being a chipper little companion for your road trip.”

“Cassi, I’m just doing my job. Would you really rather have had someone else hauling your butt back? Because that can be arranged. All I have to do is make a call and someone else can be here and I can guarantee you they won’t give a rat’s ass if you have to pee or if you’re hungry. I’m just trying to make this as painless as possible but if you’re not interested in the kindness I’m showing you…just say the word.”

She swallowed and blinked back a sudden wash of tears. For a moment he was the Tommy she remembered. He’d always had a way of grounding her when she went a little crazy. He was that solid, calming influence that had kept her from losing herself in the ridiculous circles she often traveled. And what he was saying right now…well, she could see the logic of it. She supposed she was glad it was Tommy. Especially since someone else likely would’ve double-checked her cuffs after she exited the bathroom.

A twinge of regret filtered through her. But if he knew the whole story, she could almost bet that he’d understand.

The only problem? He wasn’t willing to listen to her side of the story. So was it really her fault that she was about to do what she had to do?

A part of her wished she could just sit down and show him the evidence she’d collected so far. He might even have valuable insights, maybe even dig out some leads she might’ve missed. A small ache spread across her chest and a pinprick of nostalgia, sharp and deadly, pierced her mind, dredging up memories that almost made her cry. She risked a look at Tommy, wondering if she should take the chance and tell him what she knew. But even as she searched his face for a clue as to which way to go, she knew she couldn’t tell him. He was an agent. His world was black-and-white. That was the world he knew and understood. And she’d be a fool to try to drag him into the chaotic mess that had become her life.

Once she took her seat, he said, “I’m going to go pay for the gas. Don’t touch anything.”

“I’ll try to restrain myself,” she said, but adrenaline had already started to flow through her veins. He’d taken the keys but there was another skill she’d picked up on her travels…

Keys were unnecessary.

THOMAS PUSHED OPEN THE scratched and dull glass door of the convenience store and it took him a full second to realize what he was seeing—or more specifically—not seeing.

His car.

And his prisoner.

Somehow, cuffed and without keys, she’d stolen his car.

He muttered a stream of swear words that would’ve earned him a bar of soap back in the day and shoved the packaged salad and three different choices of dressing he’d purchased for her into the trash.

If it were possible, he could almost see the steam rising from his ears into the chill air. In glaring detail he knew where he’d screwed up. He hadn’t checked her cuffs after she’d emerged from the bathroom. Somehow she’d gotten them loose. He’d made sure they were tight when he put them on, which meant she’d sprung the lock when she was out of sight and banked on the fact that he would be distracted by her in general. And she’d banked right.

The weight of his keys resting in his pocket told him that she’d hot-wired the car. Shit. His cell phone was in the car but he had his wallet, badge and gun. He had two choices: Call it in and have an APB put out on her but risk the ridicule of every one of his peers as well as the ire of his superior. Or he could just go after her.

Like there was a choice.

He spied a pay phone and strode to it. He lifted the receiver, swiped his ATM card and punched in his cell number. He doubted she’d answer but if she did, he had an earful for the runaway, former society girl. The phone rang four times before transferring to his voice mail. He hung up and stared at the road where she’d disappeared. Whatever tender nostalgic feelings he’d had for her withered and died.

This time when he caught her—he’d show no mercy.

CHAPTER FIVE

CASSI KNEW SHE DIDN’T HAVE much of a head start on Tommy, maybe an hour at best, as he probably wasted little time in finding a rental car to chase after her. She also couldn’t afford to get pulled over driving a government vehicle so while it grated on her nerves to drive so slowly, she kept her speed at the limit and obeyed all traffic rules.

Tommy’s cell phone buzzed to life at her hip in the console but she ignored it. No good would come from answering that phone, even if she were tempted to apologize for putting him in a bad spot. She bit her lip and wondered if this was something he could get fired for. He was probably a very good agent. He’d always held such a rigid concept of morality that she’d half wondered how he was ever going to survive high school—particularly theirs—but those smoking good looks of his hadn’t hurt and he’d done just fine, even if he never paid much attention to the politics of his peers.

Unlike her. She settled into the seat and set the cruise control. She’d been such an idiot. All the things she’d thought were important had turned out to be as insubstantial as shadows on the wall. No one really cared that she’d been voted Biggest Flirt their senior year or that she’d been named Prom Queen over Tiffani Jenkins in what had been the biggest coup de grâce Winston High School had ever seen. If only high school cred had extended to something that really mattered, such as getting someone to listen to you when you told them your stepfather had killed your mother but made it look like an accident so no one believed you.

She hadn’t realized how much she’d taken her family’s money and connections for granted until it’d all been yanked away. Two years was a lifetime to wander in exile.

Some days she couldn’t quite believe the life she was living.

But if she could put together the scattered puzzle pieces of Lionel Vissher then the whole picture of deception would become clear. At least that’s what she hoped would happen.

Her biggest fear, though, was that, even if she managed to prove that Lionel wasn’t who he said he was, no one would care and nothing would change. Lionel would continue blowing through her family’s fortune and she’d end up in prison.

A chill puckered her skin and she rubbed at her forearm. Just thinking it made her sick to her stomach.

She may have been born a spoiled princess but she’d become a soldier and she wasn’t about to let Lionel win this war.

“Sorry, Tommy,” she whispered and then pushed the thought of her childhood friend far away. She didn’t have the luxury of nostalgia.

THOMAS HURTLED DOWN the freeway, back to the city, his mind working quickly to assess the situation. He had to regroup, get his head on straight and apprehend the target. It was likely she was returning to her apartment to get whatever she’d left behind—probably the date book she’d asked about—and then she’d take off again. He wasn’t going to waste time going back to her apartment. By the time he reached the city, she’d have cleaned out her essentials and moved on, and he could expect to find his vehicle dumped somewhere. He’d already called in the theft, leaving out the part that it was his target who had stolen it. She would need transportation. The closest bus station to her apartment or her place of employment was the best bet as she’d need someplace quick and easily accessible if things got hot.

He grabbed the disposable phone he’d purchased and quickly dialed someone he trusted. Owen, his foster brother and someone he knew would keep things between them, picked up the line.

“Who is this?” Owen asked. It was nearing midnight in California but Owen was still awake, no doubt crunching numbers on some project or deal for his logging company.

“It’s me. I need a favor.”

“Tommy? What number are you calling from? You okay? You sound funny.”

“I’m fine but I have a bit of a situation I’m dealing with and lost my phone. I’m on one of those disposable things.”

“Like the ones drug dealers and pimps use so it can’t be traced back to them? Must be one helluva situation you’re in. So what’s the favor?” Owen asked, getting straight to the point. “I’ll help if I can.”

“You near a computer?”

“Yeah.”

“I need you to text me the addresses of the bus stations nearest to Gorkey and Landon Streets in New York City.”

“Going on a trip?”

“Not recreationally.”

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Everything’s fine.” Or at least it would be once he caught that little escape artist who had managed to make him look like a rookie and a dumb ass with one shot. “I’d do it myself but this disposable isn’t internet capable and I don’t have time to locate a computer.”

“This sounds personal,” Owen murmured, and Tommy didn’t waste time denying it even if it wasn’t exactly true. But Owen didn’t press for details, either, which was another reason Tommy picked him instead of Christian, who lived in Manhattan and was always interested in getting the dirt. “All right. Sent. Anything else?”

“No,” he answered, a short satisfied smile following as the cell dinged with an arriving text message. “That’ll do it. Thanks, man. I’ll explain later.”

“Can’t wait,” Owen returned dryly but then added, “Be safe.”

“Always.”

The line went dead and Thomas tossed the cell on the seat beside him. Both his brothers were solid guys in different ways. They didn’t share a drop of blood but Tommy knew Owen and Christian would have his back just as he would always have theirs. That’s how Mama Jo had raised them. He missed spending time with them, but the past few months had been consumed with tracking down Cassi, leaving little time to socialize and catch up. Besides, he wasn’t the only one whose personal life was submarined by the job. Christian was a bartender at some swanky place, pulling down more money a year than he was, while Owen had his hands full over in the wilds of the Santa Cruz Mountains in California trying to keep his logging company alive in an economy that had determined logging was something of a dirty word.

They’d scattered but it was rare that they didn’t connect a few times a month. And he was feeling the separation. He made a mental promise to pop in and at least say hello to Mama Jo after he dragged Cassi back to West Virginia.

He missed Mama Jo’s cooking.

And right about now he was thinking he needed one of her signature finger thumps on the back of his skull for being such a class-A idiot.

CASSI DUMPED THE CAR IN A relatively safe place so it wouldn’t get stripped overnight and then hopped a cab back to her apartment. She didn’t stroll through the front door but used the fire escape like before, only this time she did a thorough search of the place before she let her guard down. When she was certain Tommy wasn’t hiding behind a shower curtain or closet door, she gathered her essentials, including the stuffed date book and the prepaid bus ticket to Jersey and then with one last look around the small place she’d called home for such a brief time, she disappeared out the window.

With the familiar weight of her backpack against her shoulder blades and the ticket in her hand, her thoughts returned to her situation. She hadn’t exactly finished her business in New York when Tommy busted in on her but with the authorities closing in, she didn’t have a choice but to lie low for a while. She figured Jersey was a good pick since she could disappear fairly easily into Newark, due to its size. She tended to steer clear of small towns as anonymity was something she prized, and it was damn near impossible to get when everyone wanted to know your business.

She checked the time for the next bus. She had about a half hour to kill. Lucky. It could’ve been worse. Her stomach growled. Repositioning her pack, she went to the vending machine to check out what kind of toxic waste cleverly packaged as food was available. Hmm, the choices were slim. She settled for a candy bar, figuring the sugar kick might bolster her flagging energy if not help keep her focused.

For some reason she couldn’t shake the sense of guilt that shadowed her every movement. Damn Tommy. Why’d he have to be the one to come after her? If it’d been anyone else she could’ve left without a second glance or even a smidge of concern weighing her down.

She huffed a short breath and took a bite of the candy.

THOMAS SPOTTED HER STANDING in the bus station foyer, chewing slowly, her brow furrowing ever so slightly as if she were wrestling with something. She crumpled the wrapper and threw it in the trash can with a little more force than was required and the expression of consternation was replaced with resolve.

Whatever had her bothered was gone. Thomas pulled his cuffs. Time to make his move.

He moved quietly but with purpose, his eye on the target. He kept to her peripheral vision but bad luck must’ve been riding on his shoulder for she turned and they locked eyes. Panic registered in hers and she bolted.

Her long legs ate up the dirty tile, putting more distance between them, pushing past the other people waiting for the incoming charter. Desperation gave her the edge. His heart hammered with the exertion but he wasn’t about to give up. He’d chase her off a cliff if need be, but she wasn’t getting away this time.

“Freeze,” he bellowed, causing a number of people to stop and stare, but she kept going. He didn’t think it would work but it’d been worth a try. He put all his energy into narrowing the gap between them and he closed in on her. She was nearly within his grasp but she dodged just as he made a grab for her. If he could’ve managed it, he would’ve shouted a few choice curse words but, as it was, his lungs were burning, screaming from the stale station air.

She burst outside and darted left to slip past a slightly open gate that led to the maintenance yard and slammed it shut, locking it behind her seconds before he could get to it. He slammed into the gate hard and shook it with both fists when he realized she was beyond his reach.

“Cassi, don’t,” he warned, his chest heaving as his fingers curled around the cold, rough-textured metal. She stopped and turned. Her breath curled in a teasing cloud before evaporating into the night. She held his stare and he could almost sense her hesitation even though she seemed poised to run. He grabbed on to that hope, distant and fleeting as it may be. “I don’t want you to get hurt. If you keep running, it’ll only get worse. You’ll become hunted by every single law enforcement agency in the United States. There will be nowhere to hide and if you continue to run…they will use lethal force to bring you down.”

“I’m not a criminal,” she whispered. “I’m just trying to get to the truth.”

“What truth?”

“I told you.”

He ignored that. Everyone had a story or a reason for doing what they did but it didn’t lessen the crime. “What about the people you took advantage of? The people who took you in and bought whatever fairy tale you put together so that you could drain their savings and split town?”

She sucked in a breath. “I never drained anyone’s savings. Who told you that?”

The fact that she sounded outraged and hurt he found baffling. “Do you even know the charges leveled against you?” he asked.

“No, but I can’t believe they’re serious enough to sic the FBI on me.”

He ticked off the charges. “Grand theft, fraud, identity theft…fiduciary elder abuse… Cassi, these are pretty hefty charges. You won’t be able to run forever. You will be caught.”

“What are you talking about? I never did any of those things. I admit, I borrowed some money from a few people but nothing that would be missed or would devastate their finances. And I told you that I planned to pay them back.”

“Borrow?”

“Yes.”

“Borrowing implies consent and your victims weren’t given the choice. You took without asking.”

“I will pay them back,” she maintained stubbornly.

“It doesn’t matter. There’s a warrant for your arrest. You’re going to be brought to justice sooner or later. Make it easy on yourself and stop running.”

“So you believe I did these things?” she asked, her stance rigid, her stare boring into his, almost daring him to answer. “Grand theft? Elder abuse? Do you really think I could do these things? Me?”

He shook his head, his heart heavy in his chest. “It’s not about what I think you’re capable of…it’s what you’ve done. I have to bring you in.”

“What if you’re wrong? What if all those charges were false? What if someone was trying to keep me out of the picture and painting me as a criminal was the best way to get rid of me? What if the real criminal was the one giving you the bad information?”

“What about Barbara Hanks? Winifred Jones? Or Isaac Wilmes? What would they have to say about your claims of innocence?” At the mention of her fraud victims, she didn’t pale as he’d expected her. Her confused look threw him off for a moment but he shelved it. “You played yourself false to those kindhearted people and you took all they had to fund your little East Coast excursion. Barbara and Winifred were old ladies and that’s bad enough but the worst one, I think, was Isaac. You played him like a fiddle and left him not only broke but broken-hearted.”

Something flitted across her face—guilt perhaps—but then she lifted her chin and responded with a quiet but unapologetic, “I told him I wasn’t the marrying type. I never lied to him.”

“Except the part where you lied about who you were, your past and the future you had no intention of sharing with him.”

Her mouth tightened as her eyes narrowed. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. My reasons were my own. Isaac has nothing to do with anything. Leaving someone isn’t against the law.”

“No, but representing yourself as someone you’re not and getting someone to propose to you under false pretenses is called fraud.”

“That’s ridiculous. If that were the case every single person who’s used their natural assets, be it a pretty face, big breasts, or money to get what they want would be guilty of fraud. And that’s not what happened with Isaac, not that it’s your business,” she snapped. “I had feelings for him. Just not those kinds of feelings.”

“You liked him enough to accept the four-carat diamond he put on your finger,” he reminded her softly. “A diamond I suspect you sold the minute you left.”

“It must be nice to be able to judge from that high horse of yours,” she said. Then her mouth pinched in scorn as she added, “And for your information I sent that monstrosity back to him. I didn’t want it in the first place but I hadn’t wanted to humiliate him in front of his family and friends.”

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