Tempted & Taken (Men of Haven #4)(16)

“Jeannie Simpson on paper,” Knox said, “but me, Beck and Danny have been digging into her, and I’ve got a hunch that’s a bogus identity.”

Jace paused with his scotch halfway to his mouth and asked, “Just a privacy thing or something else?”

“My gut says something else.”

Beckett crossed his arms as though he were settling in for a good debate. “For the record, his gut was paranoid a week ago. Then he met her and realized I was right.”

“Right about what?” Zeke said.

Danny snickered, but otherwise kept his silence. He’d barely been a brother for a year, but he’d settled into his place among them like he’d been there his whole life.

Knox scowled at Beckett. “Give it a rest, already. You gonna tell me you’d have thought any different if you’d found that picture?”

“Bloody hell.” Axel turned from the bar, leaned against it and crossed his feet at his ankles. “You three wanna quit the Larry, Curly and Moe routine? Found what picture?”

From Beckett’s place on the sectional, Axel was behind him, but Beck cranked his head Axel’s direction the best he could. “Knox got an email from JJ saying she wanted to talk about a business opportunity. But, Knox being Knox, he assumed she was out to blackmail the lot of us after helping us out with Natalie’s ex, so he dug deeper online for counter-dirt.”

“And?” Jace said.

Knox focused on Jace. “The JJ Simpson we worked with is squeaky clean. Only, if you go back in time about three years, she looked a hell of a lot different than she does now and lived in San Diego.”

Trevor frowned. “Not sure I follow.”

The same buzz Knox got anytime a decent puzzle or problem presented itself fired beneath his skin, nudging him past his lingering food coma. He pushed up on the couch and planted his elbows on his knees. “The online pictures I found of JJ Simpson three years ago and further back show a woman in her early thirties. Curvy body, gold-red hair, green eyes and 5?6″ according to legal records. Not a ton of online shots, but at least some candid ones on old social media accounts. Not exactly a country girl, but I’d bet she comes from a blue-collar background.” He shifted his attention to Axel, pacing closer. “Today all I can find are state and federal headshots and the woman in them has platinum blonde hair and light blue eyes.”

“So?” Zeke said. “Identities get mixed up all the time these days.”

“Yeah, well, I wanted to know for sure, so we combed her place.” Knox whipped out his phone, flipped to the image he’d snapped from the box under JJ’s bed and passed it to Jace on his left. “I found this shot of both women.”

Jace set the remote aside and zoomed in on the picture. “So, where’s the redhead now?”

“No clue,” Knox said, “but I can’t find any recent pictures of her.”

Axel rounded behind Jace on the sofa and studied the picture over his shoulder. “You’re thinkin’ foul play?”

“Thought,” Knox clarified. “I set up a meeting two days ago to see what her business deal was, and Beckett’s impression after tailing her was right. No way she’s a killer. If she is, she’s the best damned actress I’ve ever met. But she’s definitely hiding. Or more accurately running. From who, I still don’t know.”

“What was the business deal?” Trevor asked.

Beckett aimed an I told you so look at him and Danny chuckled.

Knox rolled his eyes and blew them both off. “She found out I’ve got a history of mentoring coders and wanted to offer a trade—my coaching in exchange for her services. Traces or administrative work. Whatever I need.”

Zeke leaned forward and plunked his empty Bohemia Weiss on the oversize wood tray situated in the center of the huge ottoman. “I thought she was a skip tracer.”

“She is,” Knox said, “but she wants more. Says she doesn’t like finding people who don’t want to be found.”

Danny tipped the top of his beer toward Knox. “Which ties in with the whole assumed identity. If she didn’t like the job, why start it in the first place?”

“Exactly,” Knox said.

Jace tossed Knox’s phone across the ottoman to Zeke and Trevor’s side of the couch. “So, what happened to the first JJ?”

“She’s MIA,” Beckett said. “No death certificate. No new sightings. She’s just gone.”

“And you think blondie engineered all this?” Axel said to Knox.

“Not sure engineered is the right word. My guess, it’s more a case of her taking advantage of an existing situation. I do know this. She wants the chance to work with me enough to risk a lot to make it happen.”

“What makes you think that?” Trevor said.

“Because she’s got a seriously thick Russian accent. Just showing up for the meet made it clear she wasn’t born on US soil and the real JJ Simpson was born in San Diego thirty-two years ago.”

Zeke cocked his head. “You call her on it?”

“Yep. Asked her point blank how long she’d been here. For a minute, I thought she’d scramble for some lame excuse, but she copped to moving here two and half years ago.”

Danny muttered over the top of his beer, “Definitely a runner.”