She cleared her throat. “He ended up sabotaging my sting.”
“Okay, let’s back up. Why is he after Bask?”
“For fraud, basically, except they haven’t been able to prove anything yet.”
“It doesn’t matter as far as we’re concerned. I know Marianne. That he’s under suspicion will be enough for her to cut him loose. Her attorney can take it from here. Congratulations! I believe you’ve just successfully closed your first case.”
“Wait, I—” Words failed her. Her thoughts were in a sudden jumble stewed with panic and disappointment. “It’s not that simple. I can’t tell Marianne what I know and blow Dalton’s case.”
“Dalton? He’s the investigator.”
“Frankly, he’s a pain in the ass, but I wouldn’t feel right messing up his assignment.”
There was a long pause, and then Jennifer said, “You wouldn’t have to. Marianne and her attorney can be discrete while divorce papers are filed and this guy wraps up his case.”
Cassie walked with the remote phone to the kitchen for something to drink. Her mouth was suddenly drier than the Sahara. “Except without me, there won’t be a case.”
“For goodness sakes, why not?”
“See…this is confidential, okay? No telling Marianne.”
“Of course not.” Jen sounded annoyed.
In the background, the baby started to cry.
“Oops!” Jen cooed something to her daughter. “Cassie, could you hold on a minute?”
“Sure.” Gladly. Saved by little Annie. She needed a minute to organize her thoughts.
She poured herself a glass of water but eyed the bottle of chardonnay she’d had in the fridge for God knew how long. Her nerves were shot and she hadn’t even officially started her role as Mrs. Dalton Styles yet.
Why wasn’t she dancing a jig at the thought of getting out of this assignment? Thrilled at the thought of being able to tell that pompous ass to find some other patsy to play his wife?
Oh, heck, there were a lot of reasons. How much more anticlimactic could her first case be? However, if she were to help Dalton, wouldn’t that be good for the agency? Once Bask was arrested, the local news would surely pick up the story.
Due to her pregnancy, Jennifer had had to turn down business. One of the cases had to do with following and baiting a suspected philanderer. The wife who’d tried to hire the agency had been most unhappy that her case was denied. She’d accused Jen of all sorts of things from being a reverse sexist to an elitist who thought infidelity cases were beneath her.
News of the agency’s success would absolve them. And then of course, there was Chet. He’d see that Cassie had done a bang-up job all by herself. When he came crawling to her to work for him again, she’d tell him to kiss off.
“I’m back. Sorry.” Jennifer laughed softly.
Cassie smiled wistfully. Jen loved being a mom and that job always came first. All her detectives knew and respected that about their boss. Cassie wondered if her turn would ever come. Would she have a baby in her arms to coo to and kiss and cuddle?
Sometimes she thought that would never happen. Most of the guys she knew were still in party mode, into the bar-hopping scene, trying to stretch out another year of college so their parents would continue to foot their bills. A few were okay, just young and uncertain about the future, but a lot of them were jerks. Like Dalton Styles.
That wasn’t fair. She didn’t really know him. But he had manhandled her.
“Cassie, are you there?”
“I was just thinking about how good this is going to look for the agency when we help catch someone the Feds apparently have been after for a long time.”
Silence, and then Jen sighed. “What do you know about this Dalton guy? I assume you saw his identification?”
“Of course. I also checked him out. He was recruited out of college eight years ago. He’s earned numerous citations and two commendations for bravery and going beyond the call of duty.”
“Hmm, this seems like an odd case for someone of his caliber to be assigned to.”
Jen was too damn smart. Cassie leaned a hip on the kitchen counter and took a sip of water. She’d decided to skip the part about the reprimands Dalton had received for being a maverick, and for bending the rules as casually as you’d bend a straw. Jen didn’t need to worry.
“It doesn’t make sense,” Jen continued. “Bask isn’t supposed to be dangerous, is he?”
“No. He’s a snake who swindles lonely, vulnerable women out of money, but he has no history of violence.”
“Tell me again about this plan you and Dalton devised.”
“We’re going to pretend we’re married and go for marriage counseling at Bask’s retreat.”
“How will that expose him?” Jen was obviously holding the baby. Gurgling noises came across the line.
“Dalton thinks that Bask sniffs out a weak marriage where the woman would be vulnerable to him, and then manipulates the couple to split them up while getting the wife to become more and more dependent on him.”
“Yeah, okay. I can see that.” Jen paused to whisper something to the baby who was beginning to fuss. “Your message said something about possibly being gone for a week?”
Cassie briefly explained the encounter week, carefully editing out the parts that would put her and Dalton into intimate contact. The more she tried to leave out, the more she realized she was crazy for agreeing to this ruse. Not just crazy, terrified.
She would be stuck out in the middle of nowhere for a week with a man she couldn’t stand. A man whose kiss made her want to wrap her legs around his waist and not come up for air for a month.
Oh, God, this was not good.
“Cassie, I’m going to have to call you later. Annie needs to be changed.”
“Sure.” She hung up the phone with a shaky hand, her thoughts already elsewhere. It wasn’t too late. She could call Dalton and cancel. He was a resourceful guy. He could make his case without her.
She picked up the phone again and called the Marriott where he was staying, growing impatient when it rang too many times.
She wouldn’t let him talk her out of changing her mind. If he thought he could, he had another think coming. When Cassie York made up her mind, that was that.
“ARE YOU SURE you wrote these directions down correctly?” She stared at the scribble on the pad of Marriott paper. “Or maybe you just can’t read your own handwriting.”
“I can read it fine.” Dalton made a U-turn, their third of the afternoon. At this rate they’d be
