Carly Phillips - Simply Sinful

“That’s not what you said earlier.”

“You know that wasn’t what I meant. I wasn’t blaming you.”

“Then maybe you should. Maybe both of you should,” he muttered.

“Who, Kane?” she asked quietly.

He shut his eyes before speaking. Deep grooves formed at the corners, testament to how difficult this upcoming admission would be. “I always came straight home from school. My mother was fragile, and she relied on me walking in the door at the same time every day. Even before my dad took off, routine was important to her. She got up, washed her hands, ate breakfast, washed her hands, watched TV, washed her hands, I came home, she…”

“Washed her hands,” Kayla finished for him.

He met her gaze.

“She sounds obsessive compulsive.”

He shrugged. “I guess she was, but I didn’t know the clinical term back then. She had good days and bad days, up days and down days.” He drew a deep breath. “If I came home from school when I was supposed to, she took her medication on time. And the one day I didn’t…”

She walked in front of a moving bus. Kane didn’t have to speak for Kayla to hear. His body shook in reaction to his unspoken words. She reached out and took his hand, silently offering comfort.

The man shouldered more responsibility than was necessary, more guilt than she’d ever imagined. “You said she had good days and bad days, Kane. Isn’t it possible she didn’t kill herself, but got confused, or wasn’t looking? Did she leave a note?”

He shook his head. “Does it really matter? If I’d been home, it wouldn’t have happened.” His warm hand curled around hers. “And if I’d been thinking about my job and not preoccupied with my feelings for you, you wouldn’t have been attacked.”

Kayla tried to sort through his words, to hear past his misplaced guilt. He hadn’t let go of the boy who felt responsible for his only parent. He couldn’t accept it wasn’t an eleven-year-old’s job to be the adult of the household. While growing up, she and Catherine had borne too many adult responsibilities of their own, and felt an out-of-proportion responsibility for each other. Kayla could relate to Kane’s life.

The emotional barriers, the distance, and the all-consuming need to control things around him-they all made a strange sort of sense to her now. She wasn’t sure she could ever undo the scars embedded in his past, no matter how much she wanted to.

In the library, he’d told her he was doing all he could do. That had to be enough. When the case was over, if he wanted to stay, she’d welcome him with open arms. If he wanted to walk away, she’d let him go.

He deserved to know he had that kind of freedom.

HER TOES WERE PAINTED PINK. Ridiculous he would notice considering she sat deciphering books that put her life in danger. With all quiet for the moment, Kane leaned back in his seat enjoying the view.

She chewed on the eraser head of a pencil, her shimmering lips pursed in thought. Maybe he could take just a quick taste. He shook his head, knowing it wouldn’t be enough to lessen the constant ache of arousal, nor would it ease the pressure in his chest that had been present since their earlier conversation.

When was the last time he’d thought of his mother, let alone discussed his past aloud? It had been a long time and he planned for it to be never again. But if soul-baring had given Kayla an explanation for his reluctance to take things further, dredging up the pain had been worthwhile. She’d spent too many years believing herself unworthy of more than an admiring glance or a groping hand. Better she believed he had the problem, not her.

Better he walked away from her knowing he’d given something in return.

“Sullivan, John.” Her voice brought him back to the present.

“Another big player,” Kane said. “He owns real estate all over the city.” They’d been at the books over two hours. Rather she’d been at them.

He’d been watching. The shifting of her legs, drawing his attention to the warm place in between. The animation then the scowl of frustration crossing her face, resulting in a pout of her lips that made him desire more than a simple kiss. All in the name of the case, he reminded himself more than once, trying to push aside the things she made him feel.

The first book contained a list of female names that neither he nor Kayla recognized. The women, Kane assumed, who worked for Charmed!’s side business. The last few books produced a list of male names as impressive as it was extensive. Where before they only had an informant’s tip, they now had probable clients and their call girls. Thanks to Kayla’s intelligence and persistence.

As much as he’d fought against letting her handle things, he had to admire the results. He sure as hell admired the woman.

Kane was certain these highly placed, mostly married, men would talk. The more puzzle questions she answered, the longer the list of names had become. They covered all upper-crust walks of life. And none of these men would want the scandal sure to be caused if their private lives were made public.

“I need a break.” She stretched her legs out in front of her. Bare feet peeked from beneath narrowed blue jeans and she wiggled her toes in a long stretch.

“Put it away for the night. You’ve still got the end of a concussion and need rest.” Something he wouldn’t be getting much of tonight. After spending the evening watching her work, that much he knew for sure.

“Don’t I know it. Besides, except for one last run-through, I think I’m near finished.” Her eyelids fluttered closed, shades of exhaustion evident. “But I have to finish tonight.” She grabbed for the first book in their pile, the one that began the list of names, and fanned through. “We have a growing list, but we’re no closer to…Kane?” Her voice rose in excitement.

He sat forward in his seat. “What is it?”

“Major change here. I don’t know why I didn’t notice it before. Look. All the earlier books were done in pencil, right?”

He nodded. Not that he’d have noticed if she hadn’t pointed her family’s quirk out earlier. Experts at crosswords did them in pen with no fear of mistakes.

“But here-there’s a mix of pencil and pen.” She studied the book for a second and grabbed another, glancing through it. “This one, too. Look.”

He was beside her in an instant.

“Here. Black ink instead of pencil. I don’t know why I didn’t notice it first time around.”

“I missed the change, too.” He skimmed the pages of the remaining books. “Same with these.”

“This is it, Kane. It’s what I was looking for. It’s my aunt’s clue.”

“What?”

“It was her way of letting us know she wasn’t doing this willingly, Kane. I’d bet my life on it.”

He closed his eyes at the thought. He was getting damn tired of her life being on the line. She didn’t need to remind him. “Okay, let’s say you’re right.”

“I know I’m right. When the guy grabbed me the other day, he mentioned money and when he called he mentioned the books. These books.” She drew a deep breath. “Not only do they have the names, which is incriminating enough, but maybe he knew Aunt Charlene was dropping clues.”

“Possible,” Kane muttered.

“So tell me why we can’t find a trace of the money,” she said with frustration.

“There’re plenty of places to hide cash without the accountant knowing,” he said. “Offshore accounts, for one. Without a number they’re untraceable.”

“But this guy seems to believe I know where the money is. Why?”

He shrugged. “Impossible to know what they’re thinking. But they do want their take. Any clue in those books where the money could be hidden?”

She shook her head. “Just the names. No phone numbers, either, since these are all letter puzzles.”

He shrugged. “The money is something we might never find. Unless things unravel well at the end. My guess is the men in those books contacted someone at Charmed!, not vice versa. Too risky the other way. Your uncle probably took the calls.”

“My uncle?” A grin edged the corners of her luscious mouth. “That means you believe me-Aunt Charlene was being used or threatened.”

“Like I said, anything is possible, sweetheart. But the lists are extensive. At the very least, she knew what was going on.” He hated like hell to remind her, but he didn’t want her hurt more in the end because she hadn’t considered the possibility.

She folded her arms across her chest. “That doesn’t mean she was a willing participant. I believe she had no choice.”

Kane didn’t know what to believe other than the fact that Kayla believed in her aunt. Hell, he didn’t blame her. If he’d had even one person to rely on in his life, he wouldn’t want to give up hope, either.

He glanced at Kayla. He wanted to believe in her. But his job required proof. They didn’t know what the change from pencil to pen meant. Maybe they never would.

She wasn’t ready to count the older woman out yet. Kane groaned, wishing for her benefit she wasn’t so naive. And yet that was what he loved about her…

Kane coughed.

“Are you okay?”

He forced a nod and mentally changed topics. “Whoever these clients contacted, they probably paid cash, your uncle supplied the women, took his share and cut his partner in on the rest.”

“The man we want.”

“Or woman,” Kane reminded her. “Remember the Mayflower Madam, for starters.”

She nodded. “They also want the books, which means these books.” She lifted one in her hand.

“Your uncle’s leverage,” Kane said. “With these in his possession, your uncle was guaranteed his take.”

She glanced at her watch. “It’s been hours since the last call.”

“It’s a waiting game. The more time that goes by, the more nervous you’ll get. They hope.”