Mistaken Identity Read online

  That was the trick all right, Lauren thought, as she watched Marsh at work before the stone fireplace an hour later. The leaping flames burnished his skin to a tawny gold. His black hair gleamed wet at the temples from his quick wash-up. Fat dripping from the steaks pressed into a long-handled grill sizzled and spit in the flames, providing the only sound in the room.

  Lauren tucked her feet under her on the sofa, frowning at the back of Marsh’s head. She wasn’t stupid. The message he’d sent after that mind-blowing kiss had come through loud and clear. He’d enjoyed it as much as she had, but he’d brought her up here on business. She’d darned well better not forget it was deadly business, one that demanded his full concentration. He might lighten up a little and let a smile slip out on occasion, but he wasn’t going to let anything distract him from his primary mission.

  Fine. Lauren didn’t want to distract him. Not really.

  Or at least…not much.

  She squirmed on the lumpy sofa cushions, not particularly happy with the realization that she’d pulled a Becky this afternoon. She’d tumbled into Marsh’s arms without stopping to think of the consequences—like the fact that their enforced proximity would take one kiss and magnify it a hundred times in her head. She had to stop thinking about it!

  Scowling, she pulled her gaze from his broad back and to the plates, utensils and cold beers that sat on the scrubbed pine coffee table in front of her, along with a small black-bottomed pan centered on a thick potholder. Lauren’s sole contribution to the evening meal had been to open and heat up a can of pork and beans. Nothing to divert her thoughts there.

  “What did you mean by a plan?” she asked, as much to break the silence as anything else.

  He swiveled around on one heel. The steaks he’d been turning over the flames took a dip.

  “What?”

  “A while ago, right before we…kissed.” She willed herself not to break into another schoolgirl blush, the way she had earlier this morning. “I thought you muttered something about a plan.”

  “You must have misunderstood me.”

  “No, I’m…” Her eyes widened as flames engulfed the steaks and danced along the grill handle where the grease had run. “Marsh! Look out!”

  He jerked around, cursing. A moment later, two charred rib eyes hit the plate. The chagrin on his face had Lauren biting back a smile.

  “I like mine well done.”

  “Good thing,” he replied wryly.

  The tension between them eased. Not completely, but enough for Lauren to enjoy both her meal and the bits Marsh let drop about growing up in this part of the country. He had four brothers, she learned, and from the irreverent tales he told about their rough-and-tumble childhood, it was obvious he felt as close a tie to them as she felt toward Becky.

  They washed their few dishes and Lauren called it a day not long after. Night had dropped like a stone, shrouding the cabin in darkness. Not until she’d crawled under the blankets did she remember the conversation interrupted by the burning steaks. With a shrug, she dismissed Marsh’s odd reluctance to talk about this plan of his. She was probably better off not knowing, she thought wryly. The less the bait knew about the hunter’s intentions, the more soundly she’d sleep.

  Besides, she was starting to believe David Jannisek wasn’t going to try to find Becky. Twenty-four hours had passed since he had called the Valley of the Sun Inn. After another twenty-four hours, forty-eight at most, even Marsh would have to admit that they couldn’t stay holed up here indefinitely.

  The next evening proved her wrong on both counts. David Jannisek called Special Agent Pepper Dennis at the DEA from a pay phone just over the border between Nevada and California, wanting to know how he could reach Becky.

  Agent Dennis in turn called Marsh, who proceeded to inform Lauren that they were going to sit right where they were until her sister’s boyfriend contacted her.

  Chapter 9

  Lauren paced back and forth before the stone fireplace. The early-evening twilight slanting through the cabin windows painted her in vivid colors.

  “What did he say? Exactly.”

  Ankles crossed on the sturdy coffee table, Marsh followed her agitated pacing like a spectator at a tennis match. He didn’t have to think about his answer. David Jannisek’s short conversation with Pepper Dennis, relayed to him just a half hour ago, had burned into his brain.

  “One, he’d heard Becky was in the custody of a DEA agent. Two, he wanted to know why. Three, he wanted to know where.”

  “He didn’t ask if she was okay? If she was scared or worried or anything?”

  “I expect he’ll ask those questions when he decides to call you.”

  She shot a disgruntled glance at the cell phone resting beside Marsh’s boot on the coffee table. “He’s taking his time about it.”

  “You might take some time, too, if you had to choose between the cops or the mob.”

  The mild comment earned him an evil look. Marsh took it in stride. The wait was beginning to wear on Lauren’s nerves. She’d been restless all day and had bristled like a caged cat ever since Pepper’s call.

  Marsh’s nerves, on the other hand, had settled into the icy calm he felt just before a take-down. His long years of hunting both four-legged and two-legged prey had taught him not to rush things at this crucial point. The target was sniffing at the bait. All Marsh had to do now was wait—quietly, patiently—until the quarry stepped into his gun sights.

  He also, he reflected wryly as Lauren took another agitated turn, had to make sure his bait didn’t come apart at the seams.

  “We could be talking anywhere from a few more hours to a few more days yet. If I were Jannisek, I’d be thinking hard about my options right now.”

  “A few more days!” she echoed, dismay written all over her expressive face.

  “My gut tells me it won’t take that long. Relax, Lauren.”

  “Ha! That’s easy for you to say. Your sister isn’t the one who got herself all tangled up with a man with ties to the mob.”

  Marsh’s jaw tightened. Maybe it was time to tell her about Ellen’s brutal murder. He started to tell her. He wanted to tell her. He might have forced out the words if she hadn’t rounded on him at that moment.

  “I’ve got to talk to Becky.” She scooped up the cell phone, her brown eyes challenging his across the coffee table. “Will you try to trace this call?”

  He dropped his gaze and contemplated the toe of his boot. He could lie to her. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time. He’d lied by inference if not in actual fact when he’d staged that break-in at her sister’s house. He was still lying by not disclosing that his hunt for the man who tried to take out Jannisek wasn’t official, but all-too personal.

  The lies didn’t come as easily after two days in her company, however. He lifted his gaze to hers and gave her what assurances he could.

  “I promised you I wouldn’t let anything happen to you or your sister. That’s all I’ll promise.”

  Obviously torn, she hesitated for several moments, then whirled and stalked into the bunk room. The door slammed behind her.

  Feeling ridiculously hurt by his refusal to give even an inch, Lauren dropped down on her bunk. Why couldn’t Marsh grant her immunity for one blasted phone call? She’d gone along with his schemes, offered herself up in Becky’s stead, and agreed to this incarceration halfway up a mountain. Yet he refused to respect her need to protect her sister as best she could.

  She wanted to talk to Becky, wanted to make sure she’d received the money Josh had wired and arrived at Aunt Jane’s safely. Even more important, she wanted to warn her sister that David Jannisek was searching for her. Chewing on the inside of her cheek, Lauren thought for a moment, then punched in her office number.

  “Artworks, Incorporated.”

  “Josh, this is me.

  “I hope you’re calling me from thirty thousand feet, on your way back to Denver.”

  “No. It may be a few more days yet.”

/>   “You gotta be kidding!”

  Lauren only wished she was.

  “I need you here,” he protested. “These color screens are giving me fits. And you’ve got the monthly breakfast meeting of the Women Entrepreneurs of Denver tomorrow, remember?”

  She brushed aside the color screens and the valuable networking meeting. She couldn’t think about business right now.

  “Cancel the breakfast meeting. Get my Aunt Jane on the other line for me, will you? Her number’s in the Rolodex on my desk.”

  She waited with toe-tapping impatience for Josh to make the connection.

  “Okay, she’s on.”

  “Say hi for me, and tell her I need to speak to Becky.”

  Josh put her on hold and was back a moment later. “She says hi, and Becky’s not there. She took off.”

  Lauren’s knuckles went white on the phone. “What do you mean, she took off?”

  The rejected suitor couldn’t resist putting in his two cents worth. “My guess is that she’s gone for a joyride with the local Harley salesman.”

  “Just ask Jane!”

  “What did I tell you?” he replied after a pause that seemed to stretch forever. “Becky pulled her usual stunts. She stayed one night with your aunt, cleaned her out of ready cash and faded into the sunset.”

  “Where’d she go?”

  The long-suffering intermediary relayed the question and subsequent answer. “Your aunt doesn’t know where. All Becky said was that she had to see a man about a ring.”

  “A ring? What ring?”

  “The one she put through the poor fool’s nose, probably.”

  Feeling shell-shocked, Lauren flipped the phone shut a few moments later and stared helplessly at Miss January. She couldn’t believe Becky had just taken off like that. Her sister generally acted when the impulse struck her, but surely she’d have more sense than to disappear after Lauren’s urgent warnings.

  As the numbness began to wear off, a thousand horrible possibilities started chasing through her mind. Maybe Becky had been followed to Aunt Jane’s. Maybe she’d spotted someone watching her. Maybe she was trying to draw them away from Aunt Jane and was running for her life.

  Oh, God!

  Calling herself a hundred kinds of an idiot, Lauren surged to her feet. She shouldn’t have tried to play this dangerous game herself. She should have told Marsh exactly where Becky was and let him take her into protective custody.

  Her insides shaking, she yanked open the door.

  One look at her face brought Marsh off the sofa. “What’s the problem?”

  “Becky’s…” She returned the phone to the coffee table, fighting tears. “Becky’s…”

  Panic for her sister and the horrible feeling that she’d messed up big time by not trusting the police to take care of Becky choked her.

  “She’s what?” His arms came around her. “Lauren, sweetheart! Tell me. Is she hurt?”

  She sensed rather than heard the foreboding behind the question. His cop’s mind was already working overtime, no doubt envisioning even more grim possibilities than Lauren had.

  She sniffed into his shirtfront and blurted out the truth. “She’s gone.”

  “Gone where?”

  “I don’t know! She just…took off.”

  She had to let go of his shirt. Had to face him. Had to face, too, the consequences of her misguided attempts to protect her sister.

  She would. She’d take a deep breath, release her death grip and pour out the whole story. In a minute or two. As soon as she could bring herself to break the circle of his arms.

  Marsh didn’t let her break anything. Keeping her cradled against his chest, he waited for her to work through her choking panic. When she calmed enough, he eased them both down. She was still clinging to his now-damp shirtfront when he settled them both on the sofa.

  To her surprise, he didn’t grill her for details right away. He held her, just held her. He’d laid a fire while she was in the other room, she saw from the corner of one eye. Flames danced above the orange-barked logs. A faint vanilla scent drifted above the tang of burning wood. Only after she’d drawn in several long, shudder-free breaths did his low request rumble in her ear.

  “Tell me what happened.”

  Sighing, Lauren lifted her head. She told him everything. Her suggestion that her sister hide out at Aunt Jane’s. Her belief Becky would be safe there. Her three-way call with Josh. Marsh listened without interruption, processing the information as she related it.

  “I told her to stay in Albuquerque,” she finished miserably. “Aunt Jane isn’t really a blood relation, just a longtime family friend. No one would have known to look for my sister at her house.”

  “Then it’s a safe bet no one did.”

  Panic fluttered in her chest again. “How do you know? The mob has all kinds of connections. All kinds of resources. Maybe they followed her, or put some kind of electronic tracking device on her car, or…”

  “Trust me. If I couldn’t find Becky, they couldn’t either.”

  “But you stopped looking for her when you found me!”

  A black brow cocked. “You think so?”

  Lauren was shocked to realize he’d been working against her for the past two days, and just relieved enough to let it go. Desperate for reassurance, she clutched at the straw he offered.

  “So you don’t think anyone followed her to my aunt’s?”

  “My guess is they didn’t.”

  The quiet reply went a long way to soothing Lauren’s panicky guilt. His breath fanning warm and steady against her temple went even further.

  Only after she pulled away a little did she realize that his calm was for her benefit. Up close and personal like this, she could see the tension in his jaw as he stared over her head into the fire.

  “What does this do to your scheme to trap David Jannisek?”

  Those incredible blue eyes shifted. He looked at her—through her—for a long moment.

  How did Becky Smith’s second disappearance affect his plan? His mind racing, Marsh sorted through the possible ramifications. When Becky had slipped through his fingers, he’d played the odds that Jannisek didn’t know where she was. Did he dare play those odds a second time?

  Would Lauren go along with him if he did?

  He focused on the face turned up to his. Tears had clumped her dark lashes and left damp traces on her cheeks. Her mouth, that warm, generous, sexy mouth he’d tasted yesterday and dreamed about most of the night, had thinned with worry.

  When he thought of all he’d put her through, all she’d gone through to protect her sister, something wrenched inside him. Deeper than worry, sharper than guilt, it cracked the hard shell he’d encased himself in since Ellen’s death. Just a little. Just enough for him to lift a hand and brush a damp strand of hair from her cheek.

  “I’m not changing strategies,” he told her, quietly. “I’ve got to play the odds that Jannisek still thinks I have Becky. To lessen those odds, though, I’ll have my partner beef up the trace on her car. Now that I know where she was yesterday, maybe we can track her down.”

  Lauren nodded numbly. Digging her hands in her pockets, she hunched her shoulders and waited while he passed Becky’s last known location to Pepper.

  “Get the New Mexico state police on it,” he instructed. “We don’t know where she went from Albuquerque, but someone must have spotted her.”

  He hung up a moment later and turned to the woman beside him. Her wobbly smile cut at his heart.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you back at Becky’s house. She might be in safe custody now.”

  “Lauren…”

  “I’m trusting you now, Marsh. I’ll help you however I can.”

  Dammit, didn’t she realize that she shouldn’t trust anyone in a situation like this, particularly a man torn between the need to maintain a necessary distance and the aching desire to lay her back on the sofa and kiss away the tear streaks?

  “You don’t need to scowl a
t me like that,” she told him, her smile still shaky. “I’ll bring Jannisek in for you. I can do a pretty convincing Becky if I put my mind to it.”

  When he didn’t reply, she dropped her lashes. A moment later, they lifted once more. The kittenish pout on her mouth had him sucking in a sharp breath.

  “What do you think?” she whispered in a throaty purr.

  Her hand lifted to curl on his neck. Her fingers played with his nape. The hair on the back of Marsh’s neck shot needles of fire straight into his skin.

  “I think,” he got out in a low growl, “that Becky probably took lessons in driving men crazy from her baby sister.”

  “You do?” Surprise and delight lit her face. “No kidding?”

  He couldn’t help it. He had to kiss her. Just once.

  “No kidding.”

  He intended it to end right there. Even with her taste blazing on his lips, he was ready to unwrap his arms, push off the sofa and take a long walk in the chilly dusk that was now blanketing the windows. And he would have done exactly that if her delight hadn’t melted into a self-deprecating shake of her head.

  “My ex used to say all the time that he wished I’d take a few pages from Becky’s book and spice up our life.”

  “Your ex is an ass.”

  He said it with such absolute authority that she grinned, and he had to kiss her again. Since her arm was still curled around his neck, it was a simple matter of logistics to ease her back against the sofa cushions and indulge in a long, thorough mating of lips to lips and thighs to thighs.

  His knee found a spot between hers. One hand slid around her waist to trace the bumpy ridge of her spine. The other got lost in her hair. Anchored in the windblown tangle, it tipped her head back and Marsh wasted no time deepening the kiss.

  The sensation was indescribable, like plunging down a steep, wooded slope on a half-broke mustang. Marsh felt his heart jump straight into his throat. Felt, too, the wild exhilaration of the ride. It seemed to take forever, and ended far too soon for his satisfaction. His breath rasped hard and fast when he pulled back. A fierce satisfaction shot through him when he saw his exploding hunger reflected in her eyes.