Hearts Divided (Cedar Cove #5.5)(31)



Chloe murmured her agreement.

“Excellent. I’d like to get some shots of you using the equipment first, Dan, then we’ll take group photos.” The reporter bustled off with the photographer, Dr. Jacobson and Dan in tow.

“It’s a terrible thing to lose a limb, especially at his age,” Winifred said. “He’s such a nice young man.”

“He’s a good soldier, too,” Jake replied.

“I believe Dan said you served together before you left the military. Are you retired, maybe playing golf full-time?” Chloe asked, curious.

Jake laughed, his teeth a flash of white in his tanned face. “Not hardly. I started my own company when I left the Marine Corps more than five years ago—Morrissey Demolition. We’re headquartered just south of Pioneer Square. And two years ago, my reserve unit was called up and I was on active duty for twelve months. I’ve been back in Seattle running the company again for the past year.”

“How interesting. What exactly do you demolish?”

“Large buildings, mostly. We also have a contract with the Colville Tribe’s construction company. We remove boulders and rock from logging roads on their reservation in eastern Washington.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Chloe tried to envision working with explosives on a daily basis.

“Not if you know what you’re doing.” Jake shrugged. “I specialized in explosives in the military, and my crew has years of experience in this kind of work.”

“Chloe,” the reporter called, “will you join us, please?”

“Excuse me.” Chloe walked over to the small group surrounding Dan.

“You have a very attractive granddaughter, Mrs. Abbott,” Jake said, watching Chloe as she bent to talk to Dan.

“Yes, I know.”

Jake turned his head and his gaze met Winifred’s, her green eyes shrewd as she studied him.

“You aren’t the first man to admire Chloe,” she said. She tilted her head, and a small smile raised the corners of her mouth. “But I must say you’re the first one I’ve thought had serious potential.”

“Potential?” Jake repeated warily.

“Chloe is a strong-willed woman,” Winifred continued as if Jake hadn’t spoken. “And very bright. Just like my son and me, she stayed on to become a professor at the University of Washington after graduating magna cum laude.”

“Is that right?” Jake said evenly. “I have an engineering degree but I earned it in bits and pieces. The Marines moved me around fairly often.”

Winifred waved her hand dismissively. “It’s not about where a person is educated, it’s about how intelligent that person is in all aspects of his or her life.” She leaned closer. “My husband never went to college, but he was one of the most intelligent men I’ve ever known. Well rounded, that’s the important thing.”

Jake nodded without commenting, his eyes returning to Chloe.

“She teaches English at the University of Washington,” Winifred said. “Her office is in Liberty Hall, although I believe I’ll let you find out her phone number yourself. And Chloe recently bought a nice little house in the Queen Anne District. Where do you live, Mr. Morrissey?”

“I have an apartment on the top floor of the building I own, near Pioneer Square.” Jake grinned, amused by Winifred’s no-nonsense approach. “I’m also healthy, my bank account isn’t overdrawn, I’ve never been married and I don’t have any children. What do you think, Mrs. Abbott? Do I pass inspection?”

She laughed, her eyes gleaming with approval. “Yes, son, you pass. Now all you need to do is convince Chloe.”

“That might take a while. I’m heading back to Vegas tonight to finish a job. It’ll be four or five days before I’m back in Seattle.”

Winifred nodded. “Then I’ll expect you to attend my monthly brunch two weeks from this Sunday, promptly at 1:00 p.m. I assume you’ll be bringing Chloe?”

“Yes, ma’am, I’ll certainly try.” Jake chuckled. The old lady was a force to be reckoned with. If Chloe was anything like her grandmother, he was in for a hell of a trip.

The Seattle Tribune lay open on the table. The article and photos taken at the UW Medical Center took up half of page six.

Rage hissed and uncoiled in his belly, spreading its heat through his veins. His fingers curled into fists, creasing the edges of the newspaper.

He reread the paragraphs, his morning routine disrupted as he ignored his customary breakfast of half a grapefruit and a single slice of rye toast, cut in a precise line from corner to corner. The mug of Starbucks coffee grew cold while he stared at the picture.

Three civilians stood next to a wounded solder in a wheelchair. The caption identified the patient as a marine private. The white-haired older woman was Winifred Abbott, a founding member of the Seattle Women’s Club. The club’s fund-raising had purchased the rehab equipment being used by the recovering marine. On Winifred’s left was a late-twenties brunette identified as her granddaughter, Chloe Abbott.

He didn’t have to read the name of the man standing to the right of Chloe Abbott. Jake Morrissey was all too familiar. He’d meticulously researched Morrissey for the past year and tracked his schedule and whereabouts for the past two months. Morrissey currently had a contract to implode a casino in Las Vegas; the demolition crew had been there for two weeks and weren’t due to return for another two days.

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