Assumed Identity(37)
“Why are you telling me?” Ah, hell. There it was—the trust in those pretty eyes. She was looking at him as though he was the go-to man who could save the day for her. He’d lost enough sleep already fighting that whole damsel in distress complex that could do nothing but get him into trouble. “I don’t do relationships, Robin. Of any kind. Don’t bring your troubles to me.”
“You’re the one who asked. All I did was offer you dinner.” At last, a hint of color dotted her cheeks. Temper. Good. He could deal with anger a lot easier than he could deal with need and trust and trying to be this woman’s hero.
“My mistake.” Jake slid out of the booth and stood up. “Montgomery!” he shouted at the detective, startling Emma. The little girl dropped her keys and burst into tears. Robin quickly unhooked the baby and lifted her into her arms, cooing comforting words and staring daggers at Jake as the detective looked up from his phone.
“Making friends, Lonergan?” the detective asked.
Wiseass. Jake ignored the knot of guilt that twisted in his stomach at making Emma cry. “Did you find out who owned the car I saw last night?”
“Rental company. It’ll require a little more digging to get the driver’s name.”
Good. KCPD needed to be working this case. Not him.
“Ms. Carter has been getting harassing calls she needs to report.” Jake looked back at Robin, absorbing the disappointment that darkened her gaze. “You stay out of my life, lady. Don’t come to me again.”
* * *
“COME ON, SWEETIE.” ROBIN DIDN’T know whether to feel anger or humiliation. Something was pulsing through every muscle as she pushed the stroller out the Shamrock Bar’s front door. “Did that big, scary man make you cry?”
Robin adjusted the top of the stroller to shade Emma from the late-afternoon sun, and set off at a brisk walk. It had taken a good ten minutes to get Emma calmed down. Singing a soft lullaby, Robin had carried her back and forth through the tables at the Shamrock, while Jake disappeared into the back rooms. She’d reported the disturbing phone call to Detective Montgomery, then gathered her things and strapped Emma into her stroller as the first of the bar’s early customers wandered in.
Had she really asked so much of Jake Lonergan? Was it beyond him to give a rat’s ass about anyone besides himself?
One minute, he’d been transformed by Emma’s curious touches and squeals of delight. The next, he’d been loud and crude and pushing them away as fast as he could. His words said he wanted nothing to do with Robin, yet his touch—rough like a cat’s tongue and just as gentle—against her hands and wrist had told a different story. He’d offered comfort and strength, and had hinted at the inexplicable attraction smoldering between them. But he didn’t want dinner. He didn’t want a thank-you. He didn’t want to help and he didn’t want her. The man was completely infuriating and Robin had been a first-class fool to think he wanted to get any further involved with her problems.
A car slowed down on the street and drifted toward the curb. Instinctively, Robin steered Emma closer to the brick and concrete block buildings and kept walking.
“You can’t have it both ways, Lonergan,” she muttered. “Either you’re our friend or you’re—”
The car’s passenger-side window went down, and she realized the car had been keeping pace with her. “Ms. Carter?”
Huh? She jerked to a halt and glanced over at the driver—a man in his mid to late thirties. No one she knew. She took note that the car was black, not green, before shaking off the discomfiture of a stranger calling her by name and starting on her way again.
But her reaction had been confirmation enough for the man to park his car and call out to her again. “It is you.”
For a brief second, she imagined a black stocking mask, a leering glare and a baseball bat. But the driver wore a suit and tie. The skies were sunny and clear, her vision was good and her imagination was simply working overtime. She couldn’t afford to be spooked every time a man spoke to her. She shook her head and urged the stroller forward again. “I don’t know you.”
He ignored the dismissal and got out of the car. “We’re practically family.”
Other than a slight stutter in her step, Robin kept walking. Her parents had retired to Arizona and she was an only child. The only family she had in Kansas City was right here in this stroller.
The man buttoned his suit jacket and followed her onto the sidewalk, falling into step a few paces behind her. “Ms. Carter, you’re going to have to talk to me. Either here or in a courtroom.”