Razed (Barnes Brothers #2)(66)

“Do you by any chance know her? I was certain this was the right number.”

Yeah. I bet you were. Some of the hair she’d cut had settled down inside her tank and she brushed it away as she answered, “Afraid I don’t know her. Can’t help you.”

She went to lower the phone and then stopped as he said, “What about Katie Lord?”

I love you, Katie-did. I’ll see you soon, okay?

She squeezed her eyes shut against the memory. “No. Nobody here by that name, either,” she said. Then she hung up the phone. Carefully, she put it back down in the cradle.

Stripping off the shirt and her panties, she strode into the bathroom. She turned up the water to high and climbed in, bracing her hands on the wall.

I love you, Katie-did.

Dad.

After twenty years, Michael Jessup Lord’s face wasn’t very clear to her. But sometimes, some things would bring her father’s face into sharp, almost brittle clarity. A certain scent—he’d never smelled fake to her . . . he loved to work with his hands and had spent a lot of time in the workshop he’d had built on the back of the house. He’d often smelled of leather or wood, and more than once, he’d had bandages or stitches, because he was also a capital klutz. That’s what he’d called himself: a capital klutz. The smell of leather would bring him into focus, or fresh cut wood. Freshly cut grass, because he loved to spend an afternoon on a riding lawn mower.

“Dad,” she whispered, curling her hand into a fist and pressing her brow to the cool, slick tile.

The water beat down on her as the memories—sad and bittersweet—rolled through her.


*

She didn’t climb out until the water ran cold.

Standing in front of the mirror, she stared at her reflection, at the pale oval of her face. Right now, with her hair darker from the water and her eyes grim and serious, she could almost see the echo of somebody she’d spent years trying to forget.

Absently, she reached up, stroked her fingers through some of the pale hair.

If somebody had tracked down her number, then it wasn’t going to be long before one of them showed up to actually look for her.

She got that.

She suspected she even knew why.

But she wanted to be sure.

Forewarned, after all, was forearmed.

With that in mind, she dried her hair and wrapped a thin robe around her body. Her stomach growled demandingly but she ignored it. She wasn’t hungry. She hadn’t eaten much since dinner last night. Coffee wasn’t really a food group, something she’d finally figured out, and all she’d done was peck at the food Zane had offered that morning.

She took a minute to grab her bag, an army-green purse she’d bought at a flea market, and a diet Coke from the fridge. Then she settled down on the couch with her laptop and her cellphone.

She started the search even as the phone started to ring.

When he came on the phone, she had to smile.

She hadn’t heard his voice in almost five years.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Jenkins.”

There was a pause and then, “Well, hello, Miss Katie.”

To her complete and utter humiliation, tears sprung to her eyes. Pressing her lips together, she stared up at the ceiling and tried to will them away.

“Katie?” Paul Jenkins said softly. “Are you okay?”

“I . . . I’m okay. It’s really good to hear your voice.”


*

It was almost an hour before Paul Jenkins hung up the phone. It was past seven. When his wife came in and saw him sitting at his desk, she stroked a hand across his naked scalp and sighed. “Now, honey, we talked about this. You might still work on Mondays and Thursdays, but the rest of the time, you’re mine, remember? You’re retiring soon.”

He smiled, nodded. “This one . . . well. It’s a special circumstance.” Then he tapped the legal pad in front of him. “I’m going to have to get in touch with J. P.”

Delia squinted at the paper, read Katie’s name. She sighed. “That poor girl. What’s going on, baby?”

“Somebody called her, looking for her. She played it cool, acted like she had no idea who they wanted. But sooner or later, somebody will show up. It’s her mother.”

“Of course it is.” Delia rested her hip against the chair, sliding an arm around Paul’s shoulders. “Nobody else it could be. It’s been well over ten years. Why would they be bothering her now?”

He just gave her a smile.

She slid off the arm and studied him for a minute. “You have one hour,” she warned him. “We’ve got dinner plans and you need to take a shower. I’ll be in here to drag you out if you aren’t ready.”

He was tapping away at the keyboard before she slid out of the room.

He had a good idea of why they were bothering Katie after all this time. More than likely, they’d been looking for quite some time, too. News traveled fast in this area and when it concerned certain families, it traveled even faster.

He still kept his ear to the ground, too. Especially with some people.

Paul had always had a soft spot for Katie.


*

The call had left her smiling.

If she’d left it alone there, she could have happily gone about her day.

Happily.